Why Can't I Meet A Sane Mage?
by Inkstainedgwyn
Summary: A story of wry and cheerful Elisebeth Hawke and the mage she comes to love - as well as her lovable band of misfits. Ch. 37: Epilogue. F!Hawke/Orsino. AU for situation/character changes, a tweaked ending. T for language. Please R&R!
1. Our Heroine Emerges

_Author's note. _It's the story of Elisebeth Hawke and her lovable band of misfits, but I have taken a few liberties with the story because I _was_ disappointed with Dragon Age 2, and while I understood why things happened as they did and when they did in the game, I don't have the same goals as Bioware, so I've tweaked a few things. I also have a crush on Orsino and felt that his ending was a little ridiculous. And I was annoyed with everyone else at the same decomposed bodies every time I visited Fenris, even in Act 3, so I felt that was the first order of business. I know where the story is going, but I don't know when it will get there, so I hope you enjoy it enough to keep reading. I do have a tendency towards fluff, but I'll try to keep it believable :).

This isn't my first fanfiction but it's the first one I think I'll actually finish and it's the first one I've ever let see the light of day. Reviews are welcome!

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><p><em>Ch. 1, in which our heroine is given a task.<em>

A heavy scroll dropped onto the table making a heavy "clunking" sound as it hit, followed by a light clinking as it rolled to a stop against a half-empty wine bottle - a thirty-three-year-old Aggregio Pavali.

"Fenris, clean up your damn mansion. And fix it, while you're at it."

The elf looked up, startled, from where he was sitting on his bed, haphazardly shoved against the wall, reading a book. Or, more accurately, attempting to read, as it was an old text and he was still new to his letters.

Hawke smiled at him, shaking her head. "It's a disaster in here. The only good thing I can say is that you had the sense to clear out the bodies. But Maker, Fen. You could have at least gotten rid of their things, too."

He shook his head at his friend, smiling a bit at her tone but with that same baulked mule look that she knew to expect. "My friend," he said, his voice rasping wryly. "You'll just have to put up with it. What am I supposed to do, have a spring cleaning day? Let's show all the neighbours that someone really is living here!"

Elisebeth Hawke smirked. "But someone will be, starting today."

The lyrium-tattooed elf raised an eyebrow, suddenly looking wary. "What did you say? If this is a joke, it isn't funny, Hawke." He reached over and snatched up the scroll, unrolling it hastily. He tried to scan it but as it was a housing deed in legalese, he quickly shook his head. A name, however, caught his eye - "Prince Sebastian Vael." He relaxed slightly, but looked back at Lise. "What is this about?"

Lise laughed. "As you know, Prince Vael will be staying for an extended time in Kirkwall. And while you and I know that he lives at the Chantry for better or for worse, the nobility of Kirkwall need an address to put with the person. So, when he's not here, he'll have his loyal servants taking care of the place."

A light of understanding gleamed in Fenris' eye, but he still looked reserved. "Servants? Am I to pretend I work for _His Highness_, now? And if I'm in public much more you know word will get back to Danarius."

She snorted. "Come on. You don't even act like you work for me most of the time, yet who buys you dinner six days out of the week?" He grinned in response. "Anyhow, Fen, you know that Danarius already knows, or at least will know eventually. I say let him come. Aren't you tired of skulking? Let him come, so we can finally remove his shadow and get _rid_ of him."

Fenris smiled at her use of the word 'we'. "I suppose you're right, Hawke. After all, with Hadriana dead, he'll know that she found me. And I'm sure he'll come looking." He uncorked the bottle of wine and offered it to her, but she shook her head.

"Actually, speaking of Hadriana, that's the second part of the scheme. It won't be just you, since we _will_ be cleaning this place up, and someone needs to keep it clean. I know _you_ won't."

He grimaced. "I'll be moving if you think I'm going to share with someone else. I like Sebastian well enough, but even that's enough to make me twitch."

Lise smiled again. "I'm not so sure. I didn't think you disliked Orana that much."

A faint blush - which would have been invisible if she hadn't already expected something - dusted his cheek and he said, "Orana? Why would she move in?"

"Honestly, I'm hoping you'll help her out. She's a lovely girl, but she's still got so much of the slave mentality. I'm only her mistress so much in that I pay her for the few things I ask her to do around the manor, but she still watches me, like..."

Fenris grinned. "A hawk?"

Lise groaned. "Indeed. I know you've taken care of her so far, and she is more open with you than with anyone else. You certainly can help her gain some sense of self, since you know exactly what she's gone through. This way you two can help each other with reading when I'm not teaching you. And she's an amazing housekeeper, which will satisfy Sebastian, in case he does have to use the manor for something."

Fenris nodded again, cautiously, and Lise saw the blush back again. Orana was a sweet girl whom they'd rescued from an apprentice of his old master, Danarius. She'd seemed so young when they found her, but it was mostly because she was so naïve, so eager-to-please. She was in her early twenties and Lise could tell that Fenris was interested. Honestly, it'd be a good match - he needed something to protect, and she was quiet enough that she'd understand his moodiness. And neither would have to imagine what the other had experienced, with both having once been slaves. Sebastian would have a housekeeper, Orana would have someone to protect her in the empty manor, and hopefully, eventually, things would progress. Fenris would never be anything other than a gentleman to her, no matter what.

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><p>Later that evening, after explaining to Orana that no, she wasn't going to have to leave until the mansion was ready and no, her services <em>weren't<em> unsatisfactory, Lise finally got a chance to relax in the study. Once the young elf had realized that she was, for all intents and purposes merely being reassigned - and that she'd get to spend more time with Fenris - things had quieted down.

Hawke was in the middle of a book when she heard a knock at the door of her own manor and voices, and then Bodahn showed Aveline into the study. She was in her normal clothing, which meant she was off-duty and that likely nothing was burning down around their ears, but she was also still in "work mode" which told Lise that more than likely, something would be soon.

"Alright, Aveline. You've piqued my interest. What's up?"

The guard-captain nodded towards the door. "It's Thursday, and that means Wicked Grace at the Hanged Man. Varric was just complaining that he hasn't seen you for days. Talk about it over drinks?"

Lise grinned. It wasn't anything too urgent yet if Aveline was willing to relax over the telling. And she hadn't beaten Izzy at her own game for several weeks... why not? "I'd love to. Let me get my wraps - and bow, if we're going into Lowtown - and I'm all yours for the night!"

Aveline laughed. "Careful. If I was Isabela, I'd take you up on that."

"If you were Isabela, I'd have been more careful what innuendo I let pass my lips."

The two women smirked, and Lady Leandra Hawke, Lise's mother, smiled in at them on her way up the stairs. She looked on Aveline quite as another daughter, and at moments like this when she and Lise were laughing together, they almost looked like they could be. Elisebeth's hair was darker than Aveline's, and curly instead of straight; her eyes were bright green instead of blue. But they both had strong faces rather than the brash, indolent beauty of Isabela's, and both had freckles - Lise was just glad that hers weren't as predominant as Aveline's - and wide, generous mouths. Or, as Varric so often teased Hawke, "big." Which was a not-so-subtle joke, since Lise was as willing and apt to talk up a storm as he was.

But, she had to admit it, she was lucky. None of her friends were mean-spirited, and they were all a close little family when it came down to it. Even Merrill fit in as the sometimes-shy and usually clumsy little sister who always managed to fill the quiet moments between conversations with the most riotous non-sequiturs, usually based off yet another misunderstanding of common sense.

Anders was really the only one who didn't always belong. He was the moody outsider who usually sat on the far end of the table and grumbled while everyone else roared with laughter or caroused. But he was _their_ moody little storm cloud, and he was known to tell a joke, or a tale or two when the mood struck him. Or sing, if he was drunk enough and Izzy and Varric were egging him on. It _was_ true, he was getting a bit worse - when they'd first met him he was as raunchy and loud as Isabela on occasion, but he'd been quieter since the deep roads. Lise shook her head, mulling over this on the way to the bar. She was a bit sorry for having taken him, but not sorry enough that she'd have changed anything. If he hadn't been there, Bethy would be dead now, and not just a Grey Warden.

She shook her head, putting such thoughts behind her. She'd just received a letter from her sister that day, and Bethany had said she was settling in nicely, even though she missed home. And the tacit relief at not constantly watching over her shoulders for templars was evident in every word. No, Lise had no reason to be anything other than happy at the moment. "So, who's going to be there?"

Aveline smiled. "Once I told Varric I'd make sure to get you down here, he started sending out letters and I'd assume it'll be the whole gang. I'm not so sure about Vael, but that's probably it."

Hawke laughed. "While I think that Sebastian has it in him to join in on our merry little revels, he's too new, and still too much Chantry. I don't know that he won't go back, you know. After we find out who killed his parents."

Aveline shrugged, eloquently silent for a moment. She pulled up her hood as it started to rain, then spoke. "It's his choice, and he'll do best to make it on his own, eh?"

"Right. Like any of our group would hold back an opinion once it was _not_ asked for." Lise laughed as Aveline snorted. "He'll fit in eventually. And if Isabela has her way, his vows will be gone within the year." She laughed, ruefully. "I'll have to talk to her about that, won't I?"

Her friend nodded, as they got to the door of the Hanged Man, the familiar and yet still-gruesome sign creaking above their heads. "Probably for the best. The poor man deserves to make his own decisions, and Isabela _really_ doesn't deserve a bout of "tempt the pious young man."

"Isabela _what_?" The dark-skinned pirate laughed as she sauntered over, hugging Hawke tightly and then kissing her square on the mouth, just to make Merrill blush. "I heard my name being taken in vain."

Lise laughed. "Aveline was filling me in on what everyone's been up to this past week. Hullo, Merrill, Fenris. There you are, Varric - and oh, I see Anders, don't I? Anders, come out of the corner and join us at least for one night. I do have it on good authority that you know how to smile."

She hugged the elven mage and nodded at Fenris as Varric grabbed her around the waist. While they were hugging, she beckoned to Anders, who'd actually given her a grin and pulled up a chair to the opposite side of their usual round-table.

"I hear you got a letter from Sunshine." Varric grinned at Lise, and she returned it. The dwarf had been quite fond of the younger Hawke - although Lise hadn't determined how fond and wasn't sure she really wanted to know - and she spent the next few minutes detailing what Bethy had written while Isabela spirited her wraps away somewhere (something Hawke was sure she'd regret allowing, since that usually meant there were plans for drunken Wicked Grace later and Izzy didn't want her leaving too early.) Corff brought a round of drinks, and everyone settled in for a warm evening while the autumn rain drummed on the roof.

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><p>Hawke and Aveline played a few hands and then drew off a little to the side so that they could talk business. Fenris joined them after a few; of the group, he liked Wicked Grace probably the least. He was no big gambler and usually the evenings culminated in Isabela trying to get him to play Strip-Grace with her. Lise smiled at him and moved over so that he could join the conversation, then turned back to the guard-captain.<p>

"Do you remember that retired templar we worked with last year, before the deep roads? The one we met while looking into that young Orlesian woman's..." Aveline paused for a moment trying to remember the name, then shook her head. "Well, her death."

Hawke frowned briefly, remembering the charred corpse, likely done in by blood mages, and their inability to catch the culprit. "Ninette. And Emeric," she said, nodding quietly. "I remember him."

Aveline sighed, and massaged the bridge of her nose. "Well, he's back. He's still trying to trace those missing women, and others he claims are connected."

Tilting her head, Lise looked at her questioningly. "If I recall, he was quite polite. And he had some good leads."

"Yes, but he's a _retired templar._" Aveline looked at Lise with a raised eyebrow, and after a moment, Fenris sighed.

"Lyrium poisoning?"

She nodded. "It's been growing rapidly over the year. If he has a point I can't usually tell thanks to the ramblings, and he's started to focus more and more on that mage who disappeared first - Mharen, was it? I think there was a connection there, between him and her, although I don't think there was anything inappropriate going on."

Hawke winced. Yet another reason she was glad Bethy had gotten Away. Not that being a Grey Warden made her any easier for suitors to approach, but at least in the order she wouldn't have the Chantry telling her she wasn't ever allowed to love, or lead a normal life. Again, not that Grey Wardens were exactly _normal_... but she would at least be given some choices.

Elisebeth Hawke was one of those 'enlightened' individuals who knew quite a bit about magic - her father had been an apostate and a good man who had taught her much. She _knew _it was dangerous. After all, any mage could become an abomination, host to one of those spirits who haunted the fade - her eyes drifted to Anders, and she sighed. And she knew that all mages faced the temptation of blood magic at some time or other - and here she looked towards Merrill, then glanced up at the ceiling with a wry grimacing smile. She also knew that both of them were good people, just misguided in their intentions. And mages could be sane, normal people... so why didn't she seem to know any, now that Bethy was gone? Still, she did not fear mages as most of the populace did and saw no reason to treat them any differently until they proved otherwise.

She looked back to Aveline. "So, I take it that you need me to look into Emeric's information for you?"

Her friend smiled, gratefully, and shrugged. "If you can. I don't have the time or manpower to sit through his speeches - I won't even be able to come with you on this."

Fenris frowned. "Are they keeping you that busy?"

Aveline nodded, but then flushed slightly as Lise said, nonchalantly, "Oh, I'll bet that Guardsman Donnic's patrols are in quite the wrong part of town."

"_Hawke_," Aveline protested.

"_Aveline,_" Lise grinned back. "It's alright, you know I can't take too many people with me anyhow, especially since I'll probably need to start in the Gallows. Will you give me a letter, though, so that people don't think I'm in there to conspire?"

As Aveline nodded, Isabela's voice rose over the din. "And with another dagger, I win!" Merrill grumbled as Izzy laughed, then turned her attention to Hawke's side of the table. "Oh, come on, love. What are you and Aveline talking about? You're keeping Fenris all to yourself!"

Fenris rolled his eyes as the three rejoined the group. Anders leaned forward. "I heard something about "investigation", which means I'll probably need to boil up some more potions and look for a recipe for arrow repellent." He looked at Isabela with a smirk, and Isabela stuck her tongue out at him.

"Oh, come on. It's not like I _knew_ that Hawke had been aiming for that particular bandit! Anyway, you got a nice look at my ass when you removed the arrow and don't tell me you didn't enjoy it." She twitched a hip in Anders' direction and smacked herself with a wink and a blown kiss.

Anders grimaced and Varric guffawed. "Oh, come on, Rivaini. Who _hasn't_ gotten a look at your ass?" The table roared, and then harder as Merrill raised her hand, looking confused.

"Sadly, I won't be able to take you or Merrill, Anders." Hawke leaned forward, taking a drink of wine, as Anders raised an eyebrow. "We're going to the Gallows. I'll need you if we end up chasing down any leads, but I don't want to risk either of you."

Merrill nodded. "Sensible, I'm sure. Although I do love those statues they have in the courtyard."

Fenris spluttered on his wine. "Merrill, those are statues of slaves, slavers, and demons!"

She shrugged. "But they sparkle quite nicely, don't they?"

He just rolled his eyes as Hawke hid a smile in her cup.

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><p><em>Also, all characters belong to Bioware, I just have fun with them.<em>


	2. Why Can't We Meet Any Sane Mages?

_Ch. 2, in which the heroine muses on the nature of mages, meets a possible hero, and Fenris gets annoyed._

Lise stepped out of her manor early the next morning, far earlier than anyone would have expected, given the lateness of her night. But she'd paced herself, unlike some of her other companions - She knew Varric and Isabela would still be abed and she knew better than to drag either of them out, not this early. Anders had unbent enough to get thoroughly soused the previous night, but she couldn't bring him with her anyhow. She'd asked Merrill to poke around the alienage and other places in Lowtown; after all, one blood mage's nose might be better able to smell out another's depravity. Sebastian wasn't an option, not yet; she liked him, but wasn't sure how well his Chantry views would go along on a diplomatic errand to the Gallows. That left Fenris, and Aveline.

The former was waiting in the shadows near her door and quietly took his place at her side while she paused, taking a deep breath. It was early, with the sun only just risen over the harbour. Quietly, the two took a detour; near the Amell estate there was a small cul-de-sac that overlooked the bay and they stopped.

Hawke closed her eyes. The air was sparkling from the previous night's rain, and there was little-to-no activity in Hightown, with all the "proper" nobility still abed. Here and there a servant shook out a rug or put out a bowl for the cat, but for the most part there was nothing but a quiet, clear briskness that cleared her head and made her smile. She opened her eyes and saw Fenris watching the harbour, silently. She raised an eyebrow at him as he looked up and smiled; it was rare that the elf was ever really relaxed and at peace but these early mornings helped.

"That is red enough that I believe it will rain before noon." He pointed at the lightening trail of light across the water.

Hawke laughed. "Nonsense. This is one of those perfect days where the sun will gleam off those distant dark clouds and the whole day will be dramatic and wonderful. Just you watch, I _know_."

Her friend rolled his eyes. "You know a lot of things, Hawke, and most of them are bullshit. Including anything Varric has ever told you 'in confidence.'"

They laughed together and headed for the Viscount's Keep, to visit Aveline.

An hour and a half later - after tea and biscuits with the guard-captain and her second - they left with Aveline's official note and slowly made their way to the harbour. Lise had left her bow at home, wearing only a long hunting dagger at one hip, and she never wore her armour unless she could help it, especially when she wanted information. She found that it was harder to get people to talk when you looked like you were official. She'd been able to convince Fenris to leave his massive sword at home - she still shook her head at the wonder of how he was able to _wield_ the damn thing - but he compromised by bringing a short-sword and she could _not_ get him to leave off the odd leaf-like leathers he always wore. She shrugged to herself; he said it made him more comfortable. She assumed they were from Seheron, considering the odd design, and the spiked metal gauntlets would be more than enough protection for both of them in a fight. _She_ compromised by sighing and asking him would he at least _try_ to not threaten the mages? It was a typical Hawke-Fenris conversation.

As they stood in the prow of the small cutter that took them from harbour to Gallows, she found herself thinking about mages. Fenris hated them, and with good reason - he'd been a slave in Tevinter, after all. She shook her head, refusing to think further on that subject. Mages and abominations were one thing, and Tevinter mages, well... they were a third. But she and Fenris were best friends, and she knew that he trusted her; he would behave himself unless provoked. And usually, the things that provoked him did the same for her, although he still thought her a fool for suffering Anders and Merrill.

She shrugged again. Perhaps she was. But Anders was a good friend underneath the moodiness, and she believed him when he said he'd taken up with Justice out of a desire to do good, and help better the lot of mages. He was strong; perhaps he'd be able to temper some mercy against the vengeance and bring his inner spirit to heel. As for Merrill... she'd have to face _her_ demon one day, but Hawke believed the small elf when she said she had no wish to hurt anyone, and perhaps with friends by her side, they could win free. They'd killed enough demons that Hawke was relatively certain they could handle this one.

As for herself, with her father and sister as mages both, she couldn't help feeling a twinge each time she thought about what the kind as a whole suffered. But she was pragmatic. As dangerous as mages could be to the world, so could the world be to them. She'd known many who _preferred_ the walls of the circle, enjoying a life of research and contemplation. There, they were not shunned, there they did not have to worry about bandits or other, outward danger. Would she loosen the restrictions if she could? Most definitely. Mages deserved to make their own choices and their own lives.

When she met them in her travels, her reaction was split; sometimes she helped them escape, if they were truly running from something terrible, and were free from any taint. Sometimes she gently remanded them back to the circle. She'd sent a young half-elven boy to the Kirkwall circle last year after tracking him down and realizing that without training, he'd be an abomination within weeks, if not days. Perhaps the Dalish could have helped him, but she hadn't even found their camp until afterwards.

Yet she kept Anders and Merrill _away_ from the circle, knowing that their lives would be brief if they went anywhere near. Her rule was that there was no excuse for blood magic; Merrill was no exception, but Hawke also believed in the Chantry's concept of redemption, so unless the elf proved herself irredeemable, she was welcome. Her blood magic, at least, was restricted to a quest for information, and what she believed was the protection of her people.

Mostly, Lise just wondered why so many mages fell prey to their own pitfalls. It was a vicious cycle... the more they were squeezed, the more they turned to _any_ means to avoid the danger. But one would think that at least a few of them would realize what her father had drilled into Bethy's head, and Lise had learned by association - the best way to convince someone they were _right_ to mistrust you was to do exactly what they'd predicted you would all along.

Lise was roused from her reverie as Fenris touched her arm. She shook her head, nodding to him in thanks; it wasn't really a productive line of thought, after all. Everyone wanted everyone else to pick one side or the other - you either hated all mages and refused to trust any of them, or you loved them all, accepted everything they did, and turned a blind eye to everything you couldn't accept. Whatever happened to judging a person by their actions, not their status? She sighed. "Fenris?"

"Hawke?"

"Why can't we ever meet any sane mages?"

The elf gave her a hard look. "There aren't any, except perhaps Bethany. And you know that she and I were never the best of friends."

Hawke sighed again. "I know, I know. Come on." They stepped onto the docks of the Gallows.

She gave her letter to one of the templars at the entrance - they could have gone straight in but she preferred to keep things on the level, especially not knowing what type of assistance she'd need with Emeric. After a few minutes of waiting, Knight-Captain Cullen walked up.

"Serah Hawke," he said, giving a bow that she and Fenris both returned. "Congratulations on the reinstatement of the Amell family household."

She smiled. "Thank you, Ser Cullen. And congratulations on your promotion to Knight-Captain."

He smiled, nodding in thanks, and then held up her letter. "You are here to see Ser Emeric, I understand? By the Guard-Captain's request?" He gave her a questioning look. "We have followed his leads several times, as best we could understand them, and have turned up nothing."

Hawke sighed. "I know, but he's still pestering Aveline, so she needs to look into it. The truth is that there _are_ women missing, with a good chance that it has something to do with blood mages." She frowned along with Cullen, then continued. "And she knows that your own men are busy enough with their daily duties, so she sent along someone with too much free time - myself." She smirked. "Aveline is afraid that I'll grow too soft in Hightown, I think, and sends me off on impossible errands to keep me occupied."

The Knight-Captain laughed, looking a little relieved. "Honestly, I don't know if you'll be able to get anything more out of Emeric than we did, but you're welcome to try. I am glad the Guard-Captain is being understanding about this, as I really don't want it to go any higher up. Meredith has already washed her hands of the issue, having had to make several public apologies for Emeric and his mistakes. And Maker knows you get things done - you've already outpaced me at least once. Follow me, and I'll take you to him."

Just then, the sun decided to ignore Hawke's previous optimism and disappear for good behind the clouds, and the sharp difference in brightness made them all look up momentarily. Cullen shook his head. "You certainly chose a gloomy enough day for it." Fenris smirked in her direction, and she grimaced at him, poking him in the ribs.

An hour later found them stepping out of the common rooms where Emeric spent most of his days when he wasn't wandering around Darktown. The sky was greyer than it had been when they went in, and a biting wind had blown up. Lise shook her head to clear it after having spent too much time trying - and usually failing - to follow Emeric's logic.

"There's _something_ there, something we can use," she sighed, rubbing her temples. "I'm not even sure Gascard DuPuis is dismissable as a suspect no matter what you did or didn't find." Cullen raised an eyebrow but stayed silent. "But… I can't get enough from Emeric. Just when I think we've gotten to the start of something useful, he wanders again. Maker… is this what every templar goes through?"

Cullen nodded, looking sad and a little distant - understandable given that he was a templar himself. "To varying degrees, yes. It depends on the level of addiction and stamina of the user. Most of us don't live long enough to worry about it, though."

Hawke frowned at the last line, tacitly leaving it alone. "I know the Chantry frowns on lyrium use when one is no longer active in the order, but does it ever help?"

He shrugged. "Sometimes, as long as the person isn't too far gone. Will it help Emeric? It might… his dementia is strong, but recent." Sighing, he led them towards the central hall into the main compound. "Since this is an official investigation and you're doing everything you can to keep it from becoming another political nightmare, I'll fetch a phial and we'll see. Wait here, in the courtyard. I may be a few minutes, since I have to sign it out from supply." He smirked. "Believe it or not, we don't just keep random stacks of potions sitting around in locked chests, no matter what the populace believes."

As the door closed behind him, the first drops of rain struck the cobblestones at their feet. Just as Lise frowned again and looked up, the sky opened and within seconds everything was drenched as the wind blew the rain through the courtyard in slanted sheets. Fenris immediately hopped back and tried to find whatever shelter he could under the non-existent overhang at the door, and despite her shivers she had to laugh. He was so much like a cat in so many ways.

When Cullen opened the door a quarter of an hour later he immediately cursed. "Maker, I didn't even know it had started raining - these walls are so thick, you can't hear anything. Come in, quickly… we'll be lucky if you don't catch a cold, Hawke."

Stepping inside, she looked ruefully down at her sodden clothes. The fir-green of the tunic was subtly dyeing the edges of the cream vest she'd worn over it, but luckily she'd put on dark leather trews and boots, which would dry quickly. As she and Fenris dripped on the parquet flooring, a door nearby opened and an elf stepped out.

"Knight-Captain, is something the matter- oh, I see." He frowned when he saw the visitors. "I hadn't realized the weather had already gotten so bad." Pushing the door farther open, he bowed. "Ser Cullen, I already have a fire if your guests would like to come dry themselves?"

Cullen nodded, gratefully. "Thank you, First Enchanter. Meredith is out but I could not leave them outside in this deluge." He called for a servant as they followed him into the study.

Hawke looked around as a young woman in mage robes with a sun burned into her forehead - which showed her to be one of the tranquil - came hurriedly inside at the summons. She took their wraps, and as Cullen stepped forward to speak with her, Lise examined the room. It was warm and cheerful, with bookshelves lining every wall, thick curtains softening the tiny, rough-hewn slits that passed for windows and an elegant desk in carved, dark wood to the side near the fire. There were matching chairs around the room, a few tapestries on the wall, and while she was not surprised to see what could only be magical artefacts strewn about she was surprised by the number of pieces that seemed to serve no use whatsoever except that of decoration. It seemed that the First Enchanter was a connoisseur of the arts as well as a student of the arcane.

"First Enchanter Orsino, may I present Serah Elisebeth Amell Hawke -" here, Hawke bowed "and Fenris, one of Prince Sebastian Vael's retainers -" here, Fenris scowled. "Serah Hawke, this is First Enchanter Orsino."

The elf bowed, and she looked _at_ him for the first time. Elves were short, but he was taller than Fenris and even slightly taller than she, and had the slender figure of a scholar. His black and gold robes swept the floor, and she saw a staff against the wall, carved with the heads of three serpents. He wore his greying hair slicked back and she thought perhaps that he was older than she initially assumed, but Fenris' stock-white hair proved that really didn't mean much. Fenris might not know how old he was exactly but no one was accusing _him_ of being middle-aged. She'd heard the First Enchanter was the youngest ever in Kirkwall, and his face did not show the same age that Keeper Marethari's had. _Of course, he's both a mage and an elf. He could be three hundred for all I know, and I'd never be able to tell._

At that moment the mage spoke, pulling Lise away from her examination. "I am honoured to meet you, Serah Hawke, Fenris." He bowed again, this time over her hand, and when she caught his eyes she was disconcerted by just how bright a green they were, especially in contrast to the muted colours about his person. She nodded in greeting, but Fenris merely glared - a look which she returned, willing him to be civil.

Just then, the door opened again and the servant carried in a tray laden with steaming mugs and a plate of hot pastries. The First Enchanter took it, having made room on his desk, and at that moment Hawke sneezed. Her pants and boots had dried to some extent - as had Fenris' leathers - but her shirt was still dripping. She absent-mindedly frowned as she noticed that she also seemed to be dyeing the carpet green, too. She'd have to complain to the tailor at a later date.

The mage looked up, alarmed. "How remiss of me - Serah, you will catch your death of a cold if you continue in those wet things. Laretha, bring Serah Hawke a spare robe, if you will?" The tranquil nodded and left. Lise shivered, although it was more at the lack of emotion the woman evinced than temperature. She hated seeing tranquil, knowing that had the past been any different it could have been Bethany in their place.

He misinterpreted the action, however, and gently took her elbow. "If you will permit me to show you to my rooms, you may change there and await Laretha." She nodded, sneezing again as he lead her to a door in the back wall.

Cullen cleared his throat. "If you don't mind, First Enchanter, might I leave them here to your care? I hate to interrupt your day, but…"

He trailed off, and The First Enchanter shook his head. "Do not worry, Knight-Captain. You have duties, and I am merely playing the paperweight today. I will leave my study door open so that no one suspects us of planning revolt and sedition."

He gave a wry smile and Cullen returned it, but shook his head. "Be careful, First Enchanter. I know you joke, but not everyone else would see it so." He turned to Hawke, who was still standing at the inner door. "I will be back in an hour or so to take you back to Emeric. Perhaps the lyrium will help."

Lise nodded as the mage raised an eyebrow. "Lyrium? Ser Emeric?"

The Knight-Captain paused. "Actually, you might be able to help them as well, First Enchanter. I will let Serah Hawke tell you the story. As it has something to do with possible blood mages, you may be able to give them advice."

She nodded and he bowed and left. The mage opened the door into his chambers and went to a closet near the bed, bringing out a blanket and some towels. "Please, Serah, make yourself comfortable. Laretha should be back soon."

"Please, First Enchanter, call me Elisebeth, or Lise, or if you must be polite, Hawke? Even if I were used to being addressed as Serah – and I am not – I would not find it comfortable so often." She smiled.

He nodded, and returned the gesture - he had a nice smile, she decided. "I will, my dear, if you will call me Orsino. Now, please. I see Laretha, so I will leave you to change."

Hawke did not actually need the tranquil's assistance, as she'd helped her father and sister with their robes more times than she could count, and a very few minutes later saw her rejoining her companions as she toweled the last of the water from her hair. She sat down on a chair that Orsino held for her in front of the fireplace and accepted the mug he handed her gratefully. Fenris refused a seat, preferring to stand by the fireplace and scowl - "honestly, Fen!" she thought to herself - but he had the sense to accept the wine.

Orsino sat in a chair between the two with his own mug, leaning back with a sigh. "It is good to have companions on a day like today." He smiled at Lise, and at Fenris, and she was relieved to see that he was either ignoring or accepting Fenris' attitude, and that Fenris seemed to be loosening up, at least partly. "But Serah- excuse me, Hawke- I know you didn't come here to indulge my need for company. What is this about blood mages? I've heard Ser Emeric going on a bit – he was close to frantic when Mharen disappeared – but I sense there is more to this."

She sighed, leaning back as well. "Well, Orsino, it's a long story..."

* * *

><p><em>Also, all characters belong to Bioware, I just have fun with them.<em>


	3. Hello, Meredith

_Sorry, not much humour this time. I promise there will be more in future chapters!_

* * *

><p><em>Ch. 3, featuring flowers, wine, and warnings. <em>

Orsino sat for a while in thought, staring into the fire after Hawke had finished her tale. He steepled his long fingers together as he took a mental inventory of the situation.

"It is difficult," he said, eventually.

Fenris snorted. "That's rather obvious, isn't it?" Lise shot him a warning look and he shook his head at her.

Orsino looked away from the fire and smiled at Fenris. "If your friend here is involved, I doubt that 'difficult' will give her much pause. Unfortunately, I'm not sure I can do much to help. When Ser Cullen comes back, I can take you to Mharen's old room, so you can see if there's anything we overlooked. And if you'd like, I can go with you to speak with Emeric – I may know one or two spells to help with focus and the clearing of the mind."

Hawke nodded at him. "That would be much appreciated, Orsino."

He continued. "As for the missing women, I only ever knew Mharen. It is as you suspected – she and Emeric _were_ connected. They had apparently been childhood sweethearts; her mage talents were discovered rather late and she was brought to the circle. Even though he knew they could never be together, Emeric decided to become a templar so that he could at least watch over Mharen and keep her safe." He trailed off, frowning into the distance.

"That was very noble of him," Lise said, softly.

The First Enchanter looked back at her, frowning. "Noble, but heartbreaking. I came to the circle years after she, but I saw how it tore at both of them to be so close and yet so far apart... I wondered sometimes whether it would have been better or worse for him to have gone away." He looked back to the fire. "I've never been able to decide if love is the best or worst fate that can befall a mage."

"I suppose it depends on the person," Hawke said, looking from the fire to Orsino. Her voice sounded sad, and Fenris looked at her sharply, frowning when he saw the sympathetic looks she was giving their host. "It depends on whether they see it as something to live for and stay strong and resolute for... or something to despair over never having." She sighed. "Not that either is fair in the least."

He brought his attention back from the fire and gave her a warm, if still-sad, smile. "You are very kind, my dear. But I think the less said on these subjects, the better, given our location. It's not something I try to spend much time thinking about, anyhow." She nodded, as he continued. "I knew Mharen well, but cannot think of anything that would suggest why she would have been targeted. And as for blood magic in itself, well... there are a million purposes it can have and no way to trace it unless we were to use blood magic ourselves on the remains."

Hawke drew in a sharp breath. "Absolutely not. I will comb through every last stone in Kirkwall if I have to tear the buildings down myself before I will allow that."

Orsino smiled at her with approval. "Indeed. Too many people feel that it's an acceptable short-cut if they want something badly enough."

"Nothing is worth that," Fenris said, his voice harsh.

Just then, Cullen knocked on the open door. He was followed by Laretha, with Hawke's now-dry clothing; she and Lise disappeared back into Orsino's room and within a few minutes Hawke was ready to go. The Knight-Captain raised an eyebrow when Orsino picked up his staff to accompany them, but nodded in thanks.

"To be honest, First Enchanter, you will probably be able to help Emeric more than I would. I can administer the lyrium, but cannot do anything else."

Orsino nodded. "Serah Hawke explained the situation and I feel my aid is the most I can offer with so little information available at the moment."

* * *

><p>"Why, it must be DuPuis," Emeric said. His eyes were clearer and though he still rambled, he was giving Lise much less of a headache this time around. "At least, his is the only estate that produces that particular type of Orlesian lily. All of the women received them just before their disappearances."<p>

"Lily?" Orsino asked sharply. Everyone turned to look at him, and Emeric nodded. "Are they, by any chance, pale yellow with a ruby stamen and throat?"

As Emeric nodded, Hawke crossed her arms. "Does that strike a memory, First Enchanter?"

He nodded, slowly. "I do remember Mharen receiving flowers, if only because she was particularly excited over the _type_. Apparently that lily _is_ hard to grow in this climate, but the stamen is dried and used not only in cooking but also in herbal tisane remedies. Mharen was fond of herbalism and natural healing as a support to magical healing." He looked as if he was about to say something else, but then shook his head.

Emeric smiled sadly. "Aye, that she was. Her mother was a midwife who grew all of her own remedies, and Mharen always wanted to do the same." He began to tell them about her childhood, and while it was all very interesting, it was obvious that they had gotten what information they could out of him. Hawke caught Fenris and Cullen's eyes, and motioned towards the door after softly touching Orsino's shoulder for attention.

They regrouped in the entryway where they could see the rain still slanting through the courtyard. Lise shrugged. "Well, it's more to go on than we had, but I can't just go haring off after DuPuis without more. And -" she looked ruefully outside - "if there are any lilies left at this time of the year this storm will have done them in. But thank you, Knight-Captain, First Enchanter. I could not have gotten what I did out of him without your help."

Both men bowed. "My pleasure, Serah," Orsino said. "But, as the weather is still so bad, will you and Fenris stay to dinner? I would not have you risk a crossing in this." He turned to Cullen. "Would that be permissible, Knight-Captain?"

Cullen looked dubious for a moment, but then nodded. "I don't see why not. Especially in this weather."

"I would love to stay, messere. Thank you." Hawke smiled at him, and he nodded to her.

Fenris shook his head, frowning again. "I will risk the storm." Lise sighed.

"Well, it is probably for the best – you can stop at the manor and tell mother not to wait for dinner?" The elf nodded, and she turned to the others. "Will you give us a moment? I will meet you after I talk with Fenris." They bowed, and left the two alone.

"_Honestly_, Fenris. What on earth is the problem?" Hawke sounded exasperated.

"Do you really need to ask? He's a _mage_, Hawke. And the most powerful one in this blasted place!"

"He's the head of the bloody Circle! He's the one we're sending all of those mages back _to_. I'd think you'd approve of him for being a _proponent_ of locking mages up in a tower!" She gritted her teeth, but then shook her head. "You held it in, I saw it. I know how tense this place makes you. Thank you – although next time I wish you'd at least pretend a little more."

Fenris rubbed his forehead, looking weary. "I know, I know. And I do approve of him a hell of a lot more than Anders or, Maker-forbid, Merrill. But this whole place gets to me." He shook himself, putting his hand on his hip to assure himself that the sword was still there. "I'm going to go now, Hawke. I'll tell your mother not to worry, but..." he took a deep breath, and gave her a long, level look. "Be careful. He's still a mage."

He dashed off through the rain and Lise ran through the courtyard, the templars waiting to let her into the main hall.

* * *

><p>After giving Laretha instructions for dinner, Orsino paced in front of the fire, thinking. Lilies... lilies... it rang a bell and he was trying hard to remember why. Even when Mharen had received hers they'd reminded him of something and he just wasn't sure what. At the time, it hadn't seemed important – and until now he hadn't even connected the two.<p>

He heard a cough and in the middle of his musing, and looked up to see Hawke standing in the doorway. She smiled. "Am I interrupting, First Enchanter?"

Shaking his head, he smiled back and motioned to the chair she'd occupied previously. "Not at all, Hawke. Please, join me. And as there are no templars here for the moment, Orsino will do just fine."

She nodded, laughing. "I was just being careful." She seated herself and accepted a cup of tea, shaking her head at the proffered cream and sugar. "No, thank you. I have such a sweet tooth that if I have something sugary before dinner I'm spoilt."

"I'll have to remember that." Just then, Laretha returned with another tranquil, both of them carrying large platters. As they set out the meal, the mage sniffed appreciatively. "One of the best things about being First Enchanter is that I can order any meal I wish. Usually I eat with the rest of the enchanters, but occasionally I do indulge." He helped the servants lay out the dishes and then offered Lise his arm. He led her to the table, making sure she was seated comfortably, then took the opposite chair.

They served themselves from plates of perfectly-done roast beef, tender steamed vegetables, sundry sides and salads, and hot bread fresh from the oven. Orsino held up a bottle. "Wine? This is my favourite vintage, from Orlais."

Lise nodded. "Please. I prefer wine to ale, honestly. So does Fenris, though the rest of our close friends are all far too acquainted with the Hanged Man to enjoy it."

Orsino chuckled, handing her the glass, and smiled when she sighed happily after tasting it. "Your friend was not very comfortable today, was he?"

Hawke sighed. "You can say that again. Please, allow me to apologize for him." He shook his head quickly, and she continued. "His story is not mine to tell, but suffice it to say he was a slave to a Tevinter magister for much of his life, and has suffered for it."

The First Enchanter winced. "You need not tell me any more, my dear. I understand why he would not want it to be widely spoken of. Especially if..." he trailed off, then tilted his head. "Those are not simple tattoos, are they?"

Lise frowned at him. "Is it that easy to tell?"

He gave a small laugh. "I _am_ a mage, and although I know the Maker prefers us to be humble, I will say that I have enough talent to sense that those are lyrium markings. I believe I read something about them, once, and if they are the same thing... those were not given willingly, were they?"

She shook her head. "I do not know, but I think not. Fen does not remember much before he received them, though, so I can't say one way or another."

He winced, then drained his glass and poured another, refilling hers at the same time. "I don't really think this is the right conversation for dinner, even if I do find myself abstractedly interested in the tattoos themselves, as well as disturbed at the evidence of such abuse. But I will say one thing, my dear. Be careful."

She paused, her hand halfway to her glass. "What do you mean?" She kept her voice light, although she was a little angry that he would suggest that Fenris would ever be a danger to her.

"Do not let him come here often. I am not the only one would would sense his markings, and that will make him prey amongst the less-honourable mages here. I wish I could say that I can trust everyone in the tower, but I do not feel I _can_, and so I bid you caution." He held up a hand to forestall her wry rebuttal. "I can tell that he is more than able to defend himself, but that does not mean he will not be a target, as will his friends and companions. It is good that you've linked him to Prince Vael. Such a name will be more of a protection than you think."

He smiled as Lise blinked at him. "Ah, Hawke. You forget that as First Enchanter I _must_ play the politics game, as will you if you continue to increase your fortunes. I've paid much attention to Starkhaven because I have many friends in the Circle there and the Vael lineage has been better to their mages than any other rulers in centuries."

Hawke stared into her goblet. This wasn't quite what she expected the First Enchanter to say – she was afraid that, like Anders, he would try to warn her away from her friend. But while it was disheartening to hear him echo what she already knew – that she'd have to play the politics game soon enough – it was also refreshing. Aveline hated politics and refused to play them, and the only reason she'd risen as far as she did was through sheer stubbornness. Varric knew politics, but was far too comfortable with back-room dealing than she wanted to be. She knew she'd need it, but didn't want to think about it.

She looked up as he continued. "But the main reason I warn you is because -" he dropped his voice. "Because of Meredith." She blinked again, and looked towards the door. No one was in sight. "I know you will think I am paranoid because of my relationship with her, and you would be right. But she is harder even than she once was, and harsher. If she got too good of a look at Fenris she might decide that, as a magister's plaything, he is too dangerous to let go. She would want him eliminated, or turned to her own goals."

Lise looked skeptical, and was about to open her mouth to say as much when the front hall door opened and a loud, booted tread was heard in the passage, along with a strident female voice. "Orsino! Cullen!"

She blanched, hoping that no one had heard the First Enchanter. With her luck they'd decide she was conspiring with him, and she vaguely wondered just how Fenris and Anders were going to break her out of the Gallows. Orsino stood and was moving towards the door as the steps came closer, but then Cullen came quickly down the hall. They heard voices, a few words – Emeric, Hawke, and dinner – and then Meredith was in the doorway, frowning. The air suddenly seemed heavy as she fixed searing blue eyes upon Lise.

"Serah Hawke."

* * *

><p><em>Also, all characters belong to Bioware, I just have fun with them.<em>


	4. Friends and Enemies

_After much consideration, I'm changing the genres of this story to Romance & Adventure; I don't plan on changing anything else but I do worry that there won't be enough funny to amuse those looking just for humour. But we all know that Hawke's friends can't get together without a riot in some form or another, so I'm sure there will be plenty more._

_Thank you to everyone who has favourited this! I would also love any reviews or recommendations if anyone has any to spare._

_Without further ado, chapter 4._

* * *

><p><em>Ch. 4, in which our Heroine has an enjoyable evening after all.<em>

Hawke had already risen to her feet, and she gave a low bow. "Knight-Commander."

Meredith looked at her for a long while, then spoke again. "You are the one who has been apprehending our errant apostates, are you not? That elven boy, and the mages from Starkhaven. Then, those three who went missing last week."

Lise bowed her head, hoping that Meredith would not see the flush on her cheeks as she found herself irrationally hoping that Orsino wasn't listening too closely, although she knew it was ridiculously impossible. "I am, messere."

Meredith looked at her again for a long moment, and then nodded, her hand lingering on the sword at her hip. "We appreciate what you have done for Kirkwall, do we not, Orsino?" The mage bowed, murmuring something. The templar continued. "More of our citizens would do well to follow your example." She nodded again. "Good night, Serah Hawke. Perhaps we will talk more another time."

The atmosphere by this time was suffocating, and Hawke had to brace herself as she bowed again. "It would be my deepest honour, Knight-Commander."

Then, Meredith was gone and Lise almost gasped. She turned to Orsino. "I... owe you an apology. I thought you were exaggerating, but..." She sat down. "Maker. I'm shaking."

The First Enchanter nodded, watching her for a few moments. He sat back down and picked up his wine glass. "You were the one who sent Feynriel to us? As well as Alain and Grace?"

Hawke nodded, slowly. His face showed neither approval nor disapproval, and she wasn't sure whether or not she was about to be summarily dismissed. She hoped not.

"And you were the one who tracked down Jake, Deborah, and Innley last week." It wasn't a question, and Hawke merely nodded. Orsino looked into his glass for a long while, then back at her, an odd expression in his green eyes. "Why?"

Lise blinked. She expected the question, but not in the tone he used. It was not pleading, or accusatory. It just... was. Instead of the initial excuses she wanted to blurt out, she forced herself to stop and think for a moment.

"Feynriel, I sent because he was a danger, to himself and others. Not deliberately, but... father explained enough that I know how dangerous such nightmares are to a mage. I felt that he would be safest if _someone_ were to teach him."

Orsino interrupted. "Father?" He looked puzzled, and Hawke swore mentally. She hadn't even thought about hiding her family history from him, but she knew it might be dangerous not to.

She shook her head. "Never- nevermind that, now."

He looked askance, but then nodded. "If you wish, Hawke."

She took a deep breath, then continued. "As for the Starkhaven mages, Alain himself wanted to come back to the Circle. I don't know how much else you know, but we then had to defend ourselves from the leader of the group – whom I think orchestrated the fire in which the phylacteries were lost – because he was entrenched in blood magic. The whole cavern was full of the undead he had summoned."

"Grace and Terrie – the others never told me their names – were at his side, willingly; they did not fight us, but they did not repudiate him as Alain did. I didn't feel I could trust them, because not once did they seem to regret that blood had been spilt and lives lost, and instead they begged me to help them escape by killing Ser Thrask."

The First Enchanter's eyes widened a bit. "Ser Thrask is probably our biggest supporter in the templar order. If we had lost him, many would have suffered."

Lise shrugged. "No matter what, I wasn't going to murder someone just so they could go free." He nodded, and she continued.

"As for the three I tracked down last week, my initial intention was never to kill. Each one, however, attacked me on sight before I was even able to ask their circumstances. And every one of them was a blood mage." She winced, feeling sick. "Pride demons are not easy to defeat."

He paused, glass in hand, halfway towards taking a drink. "Pride demons, you say? Are you sure?"

She shrugged again. "Well, desire and rage are the easy ones. It's not really possible to confuse a succubus and a living column of molten flame." Lise gave a wry laugh. "Sloth and pride look so much alike, but these were pretty... active... so I have to assume pride."

Orsino gave her a long look. "You know much about magic, Serah Hawke."

"I am no mage, if that is what you are implying." She met his eyes.

He shook his head. "No, no. You mistake me – that was a compliment, if anything. But it certainly seems as if you have received some sort of a magical education."

"You might say that," she temporized. "Look, I know that magic can be dangerous. I also know that sometimes, the biggest threat towards mages is a frightened and uneducated populace. I believe in the Circle – not to cage practitioners of magic, but to guard them. Granted, after meeting _so _many blood mages here, I think that the idea of having safeguards against those who go out of control is a good thing... but I and my companions have been able to protect ourselves against them, many times. Magic is not like the blight, where you can and will come away tainted just from touching it." She found her mouth dry, and took a drink; he offered to refill her glass but she shook her head. Two was the most she would allow around someone unfamiliar.

He sat back, watching her until she began to feel uncomfortable. However, just before she could excuse herself for the evening, he stood, and gave her a bow.

"Serah Hawke, you are an astonishing woman. I rarely hear that argument from anyone not a mage, and even they are usually rarely so well-spoken. Unfortunately, most mages argue at complete freedom, damn the consequences. There is no middle ground."

Lise gave a sigh of relief, and nodded in thanks. "Magic is inherently more dangerous than, say, wielding a mundane weapon, because the weapon has no mind of its own and is not trying to convince you with honeyed words to let it free-"

"If it is, then you've probably gotten a hold of something you shouldn't have." He smiled, and she laughed.

"-indeed. But with magic, there is a being with intelligence – possibly more than your own – attempting to trick you. So, I think that safety measures are necessary. But I think that having a templar watch your every step is much akin to stationing a guardsman in every house with anyone old enough to pick up a kitchen knife."

He applauded, lightly. "Well said – although I wouldn't ever say something like that here again. Honestly, Hawke, I am glad you did what you did for us, with Feynriel, with the Starkhaven mages, and even with those who escaped. I feel much the same as you – if I _could_ change the rules, I would. Others may call me an apologist, but I know that here and now, what I _can_ do is keep my people safe, and I will do what I can to support that." His face hardened, just a little. "But I will say that there is a line. Every mage is a mortal being, and should have equal rights like any other, human or elf. I will not allow my people to be abused."

She nodded. "Neither would I. There are situations I have been involved in that perhaps the Knight-Commander has not heard about, and I would hope she will not. I happen to like the ability to come and go as I please, especially as I was afraid she would kick me out upon finding me here at dinner with you."

Orsino nodded, smiling. "Indeed; I enjoy company, and I have been enjoying yours immensely. If playing nicely with Meredith allows me to invite you back again, then I am all for it."

Lise laughed. "Honestly, Orsino, I thought you were going to demand that I leave a while back. I didn't know what to think about your reaction when you found out what I'd been responsible for."

He shook his head. "I had no reaction because I wanted to know your true reasons before judging you. And I'm glad I did; we see eye-to-eye on much. But I am still not someone who would demand that a guest leave simply over a difference of opinion. I enjoy a good debate."

"You would be very much at home with some of my companions, although I warn you that there are others who will think unkindly of you – even moreso than Fenris." She thought for a moment about mentioning Anders, who would hate the First Enchanter - who already _did_ hate him - but still decided to err on the side of caution. "Still, you are welcome at my estate any time you wish to visit."

Orsino looked surprised, and then pleased. "I would like that, Hawke. Thank you, I will."

She heard the clock chime eight and looked up in surprise and disappointment. But before she could make any motions towards leaving, he held up a hand. "Come now, you cannot be thinking of going already? I haven't had a guest who didn't also live here in far too long, and it is only just past twilight. It is rare that Meredith gives me carte blanche, and now that she has I will take advantage of it. Besides," he continued, as she laughed at him, nodding her acquiescence. "I have it on good authority that there is a large chocolate cake waiting for us to request its presence."

Hawke grinned. "You've got me there, Orsino – though I would also stay for the company so don't think you're bribing me."

"Of course not. Speaking of bribing, however; could I use a slice to convince you to oppose me in a game of chess?"

She held up her hands, reluctantly. "Very well, if I must."

After she beat him twice in a row, he gave her a level look. "My dear, I think I've been tricked."

Lise laughed. "I can't help it, my father was a champion chess player and Carver could never be bothered. When he was little he tried to eat the pieces, thinking they were barley-sugar; as he got older, he'd get angry any time you took his pieces and was known to overturn the board. And Bethy was too meek. The only way she'd win was if you let her."

He smiled. "You've mentioned your family before. Would you tell me of them?"

She looked at him, running her thumb along the mane of the chevalier piece she'd just stolen with her tower. After a moment, she nodded. "I would like to, but not here. I hope you understand."

He returned her nod with a bow of the head. "I do. Perhaps another time, then."

* * *

><p>The rest of the night passed without another mention of templar or mage except in passing as they discussed art, music, and literature. She was delighted to find that they shared some of the same favourite authors, and they were deep in debate when the clock struck eleven. She stood, stretching.<p>

"Unfortunately, this time I really must say goodnight," she said, regretfully. "Mother will worry too much if I'm out too late without any of my companions."

"Of course." Orsino got to his feet as well and left the room momentarily, returning with her cloak and scarf, which he then helped her into. He smiled. "I will look around tomorrow and see if I can find those volumes I told you about."

She returned the smile. "That would be lovely. And feel free to come by any time. My grandfather's library is large and Varric and I are the only ones who use it much."

He bowed. "My friend, you would not offer if you knew how likely I am to take you up on it. I am allowed free travel within the city, but there are restrictions. I have standing invitations to few enough places, and fewer still where I would actually wish to go."

"And I would not have offered if I did not truly hope you would come by, and often."

Orsino nodded, looking touched. "Then you will see me soon." Distractedly, she found herself noticing that his eyes looked even greener when he smiled.

* * *

><p>He escorted her to the docks – the rain having long since ended – and bowed over her hand once more before the night guard helped her into the boat. It was a short trip back, and she was home in relatively little time.<p>

Her mother was just going to bed. "Did you have a good time, dear?"

"Yes, I did. The First Enchanter is a very nice man. I hope you don't mind that I've invited him to visit whenever he wishes."

Leandra shook her head. "Of course not, dear. This is your home – you may invite whomever you wish. Your friend – Fenris – seemed worried, but I told him that you would be fine. I look forward to meeting the First Enchanter, if he does come to visit."

Lise smiled, and kissed her on the cheek. "Thank you, mother. Sleep well, and I'll see you in the morning."

After Orana helped her change into her house robes, she went down to the library to look for some books she'd told Orsino about. She thought she remembered seeing them, but wanted to be sure in case he did come by.

"History of the Chantry... Legends of Arlathan... Leathers to Feathers: Crossroads of Form – Maker, I'll need to read that now, won't I?" She sighed. "The Curse of the Chevalier... Hard in Hightown: Siege Harder? What on earth, Varric! Aha. Here's something." She began pulling down tomes, some for loan and some to refresh herself; they'd discussed a few things earlier she wished to research.

Just then, a voice spoke quite close. "Did you enjoy yourself this evening?"

Lise let out a little screech, dropping one book and slamming another shut as she jumped. "Maker, Fenris! Shame on you! Mother didn't tell me you were still here!"

He laughed a little, picking her book up for her. "I'm sorry, Hawke. I thought she would."

She took it from him, still glaring. "I _did_ have a good evening. Orsino is very nice."

Fenris frowned. "Hawke..."

She shook her head. "No, Fenris. I appreciate your concern, but I really wish you'd let yourself at least get to know him before you judge. He's not like Anders, wanting to free the mages of the world. We agree on a lot of things actually."

He shrugged. "If you feel so strongly, then I will. But I cannot promise that my opinion will change."

"All I ask is that you try. And think about it this way. Anders will hate him, too." He shook his head, rolling his eyes as she laughed.

"Oh, and I met Knight-Commander Meredith."

"Oh?"

Hawke nodded. "She is a... formidable woman. But she frightened me, Fen."

He raised an eyebrow. "That takes some doing. Are you sure you were not just jumpy?"

She scowled. "When am I ever jumpy?" He merely raised his eyebrow again, nodding at the book she'd dropped. She glared as he smirked. "You know better! No – there's an air about her. Almost as if... almost as if she tries – and somehow succeeds – in sniffing out magic and corruption. But she's hard, and cold. I don't know how much I would trust her."

She paused for a moment, but decided to only partially mention Orsino's warning. It was a good one, but Fenris might take it amiss, considering its source. "Honestly, I want to be careful, taking you to the Gallows. Your tattoos aren't exactly subtle, and while you and I know that no mage in the world would be able to use you, Meredith may not ask our opinion. Or she may decide that you are a valuable weapon to be used against mages."

Fenris narrowed his eyes. "While it is true that I am no friend to magic, I am my own weapon, and belong to no one."

She nodded. "And I would rather not have to fight the Knight-Commander over you, Fen. Not at the moment, at least. I like being able to go in and out of the Gallows when I wish – hell. I like being allowed to live freely in Kirkwall, while we're at it."

He sighed. "I see your point. But if there is danger, you cannot keep me from going with you."

Hawke smiled at him. "You know I never would. Now go home and rest. Tomorrow we start cleaning your mansion, and tomorrow night we track Gascard DePuis.

Her friend groaned at the first, but looked surprised at the second. "But you said earlier that we needed more evidence before we could make any moves."

She rolled her eyes. "Come on, Fen. What was I supposed to do, tell Knight-Captain Cullen that I'd be breaking into DePuis' mansion without definable cause?"

"I _did_ think it was a very un-Hawke-like answer at the time." He laughed. "Our usual business – break in, look around, and ask questions after we find proof?"

"You know it. I want Varric in on it, and probably Anders." At his grimace, she shook her head. "We're dealing with a possible mage, so I want one on our side who can counterspell. Aveline can't come – I wouldn't take her anyway, not to a break-in." She began ticking off her fingers as she went down the list of their companions. "As this isn't a 'clean sweep and pick through their belongings', I can't take Isabela. Maker knows she's the most unrepentant kleptomaniac I've ever met. Sebastian is out because I have an idea that Andraste would frown on this sort of thing, and Merrill, well... if we're dealing with a blood mage, she's just so damn _touchy_ on the subject."

"I'll go by the Hanged Man before bed, then – but you can tell Anders yourself." She nodded, and he turned to go. "I'll see myself out. Goodnight, Hawke."

"Goodnight, Fenris."

She sat down at her desk to write a note to Anders, ringing the bell for Bodahn while she scribbled. A few words, and she sealed it, handing it to him. He'd find a trustworthy enough urchin to carry it to Darktown; she gave him an extra few silver to make sure the child was able to get a warm meal afterwards.

* * *

><p><em>Warning: unfortunately, a chocolate cake <em>was_ harmed in the making of this chapter. I am truly sorry. Also, all characters belong to Bioware, I just have fun with them._


	5. Mistakes

_Ch. 5, in which our hero and heroine both make mistakes._

Lise watched Gascard DuPuis gasp around the dagger in his throat, and then reached down to jerk it out once she was sure he was dead. She felt sick – she always felt sick after having to kill another blood mage.

The evening had started out well enough. She'd met Fenris, Anders, and Varric in an alley in upper Hightown and within ten minutes they'd found the entrance to his cellar. She deftly picked the lock – Fenris still shook his head each time he saw her do it – and they crawled in, one at a time.

There was a musty, rotten smell in the air that made her neck prickle. Fenris spat in the dirt at his feet. "It already smells as if he's guilty."

She nodded, made a motion for them to be quiet, and then slowly opened the door to the first floor. But she needn't have bothered being stealthy – they hadn't even needed to worry about the cellar. The house seemed deserted, and the front door opened as soon as Varric touched the handle. He looked back at her and shrugged, looking confused.

"Don't ask me. You humans are all crazy."

They were barely two rooms in when the spirits started pouring from the fireplaces and windows. Anders and Hawke swore in unison, and Fenris jumped forward with a snarl. It took them little enough time, but once they were done, she looked around, and nodded. "I can't imagine that we're going to find any mitigating evidence, do you?" She sighed. "Maker, I hate blood mages."

In one room they found vials of blood, each one labelled with a woman's name. Shuddering, Lise carefully stored them away as evidence. Then, in another room, they found chests of women's clothing.

"Unless DePuis is more of a "ladies" man than we thought, those probably belong to the missing women," Anders said.

"Either that or they're his," Varric quipped. Lise just gave him a look. He shrugged. "What? You never met my cousin."

She shook her head, sighed, and turned to Fenris. "We'll leave it here, but can you remember where it is in case we need to fetch it out? I'm hoping Aveline's people will just be able to come in and search the place, but you never know." He nodded.

Other than a few notes in the dining room – one from the First Enchanter of the Starkhaven Circle refusing to provide information on missing apostates – they didn't find much else of any value. However, on their way up the stairs to the second floor, they heard a woman's scream. Hawke and Fenris froze for a moment, looked at each other, and took off running with Anders and Varric not far behind.

Lise skidded to a stop in the doorway of the master bedroom suite, and what she saw set her stomach turning in a familiar sickening twist. A woman – Hawke recognized her as Alessa, a minor noblewoman – cowered in the corner, obviously trying to fend off the man standing above her. He had one of her wrists in a vice grip, the cut hand positioned over a rapidly-filling vial of blood. Lise stepped forward.

"Let her go," she said, in an icy voice that brooked no opposition. "_Now_."

Gascard DePuis whirled around, dropping Alessa's arm in the process. She scrambled to her feet, edging away from him as fast as she could. When he saw the four standing in the doorway, with Hawke's arrow trained on him and Fenris's massive blade held high, he swore in an Orlesian accent.

"Shit! It's not what it looks like, I swear it!"

Lise snarled at him, her arrow never faltering. "Then how do you explain the blood? The demons?"

He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. "So I use blood magic. It is only because I need more power! I did not kill these women, you have to believe me!"

She shook her head. "Unbelievable. You would deny it when their blood and clothing is in your house even as we speak!"

"No, I swear it! I only needed the things to track the real killer! The bastard killed my sister in Starkhaven, and I've sworn to track him down no matter the cost. That's why I needed the blood!"

She turned to look behind her. Varric shrugged, and Anders stood, arms crossed, shaking his head. "I don't believe him."

"I cannot believe you're even considering his ridiculous story," Fenris said, his voice grating harshly.

"I'm not," Hawke responded, and fired an arrow. The mage screamed as it shattered his shoulder, and things quickly got messy with demons and abominations appearing in every corner. Soon enough, however, everything was dead. She stepped back, after wiping her blade on his tunic.

"Come on. We'll visit Aveline early tomorrow, and Emeric after that. Leave everything except the vials – the guard can take over from here." She walked away, not looking back.

The next morning she reported to Aveline, who groaned, and put her head in her hands. "There was no other way around it?"

"_Aveline_. He was a blood mage. You _knew_ there would be a chance that he was a blood mage. You sent me to deal with him and you _know_ how I deal with blood mages. And I found these in his house!" Lise dropped the bag of vials on the Guard-Captain's desk and Aveline winced.

"All right, Hawke, all right." She sighed. "I'll send a squad out to secure the estate, and I'll inform the Seneschal and the Knight-Commander."

Lise raised an eyebrow. "Meredith? Why?"

"Because she requests information every time we discover a crime in which a blood mage was involved."

"Oh, joy. More flames for the fire." Lise grimaced. "Well, I'm heading that way to talk to Emeric, but I figure it's probably better for you to let her know." Aveline nodded. "See you later, perhaps over drinks at the Hanged Man?"

"If I'm not too busy? Sure. Take care, Hawke."

* * *

><p>Hurrying down a corridor, Orsino happened to glance out of one of the windows just in time to see Hawke in deep conversation with a female templar. There was a dwarf at her side whom the mage realized must be Varric.<p>

"Good. It looks like she took my warning about Fenris to heart." He smiled to himself. "I wonder if she'll stop by and say hello?" He shifted his staff and began to walk more quickly, but before he could get to the stairway he saw her step back, look at Varric, then the both of them took off at top speed towards the docks.

Alarmed, he ran downstairs, dropping his books in at his office on the way by. He forced himself to slow down so as to not draw attention, but managed to reach the templar Hawke had been speaking to in a very few minutes.

"Has something happened? I saw someone running away as if their life depended on it."

The templar turned to him. "What- oh, First Enchanter. That was Serah Hawke. She was asking after Emeric, but I think she must have had too much sun. She didn't even remember that she'd sent him a message this morning, asking him to meet her in Lowtown on a lead for some investigation."

Orsino frowned. "Haw- Serah Hawke would never make that kind of mistake. Who brought the message?"

She looked at him like he'd gone crazy, too. "I don't know. Someone delivered it to the guards at the docks, and they brought it to him."

He frowned, rubbing his forehead. "I think something just went very wrong. You might want to get out there, templar."

* * *

><p>It was only a few hours later that he was able to get the story from Knight-Captain Cullen.<p>

"Apparently Hawke got a lead on DePuis, and when she raided his mansion last night she found him in the act – as well as in possession of blood from the missing women. She killed him, and thought that was the end of it, but he must not have been working alone – someone managed to lure Emeric out to an alley using her name and killed him. Moira got out there just as Hawke and her friends were cleaning up another lot of demons. Meredith is livid."

Orsino looked angry. "How is it Hawke's mistake?"

Cullen shook his head. "Not at Hawke. She actually seemed pretty pleased when she first heard that they'd had managed to catch DePuis without the guard being involved. She's just angry in general – you know how she gets whenever she loses a templar, especially to a blood mage."

The First Enchanter nodded, feeling relieved. "Thank you, Ser Cullen. I'll leave you to your duty – oh. Where is the Knight-Commander, anyhow?"

"I think she went to visit Serah Hawke."

Orsino forced himself not to freeze. "I… see. Thank you, Knight-Captain."

Cullen nodded. "First Enchanter."

* * *

><p>Hawke was sitting in her study, staring into the flames when a loud knock pealed through the house. She ignored it, still lost in angry thoughts about the day's failure, until she heard Knight-Commander Meredith's voice asking to be shown in to see Serah Hawke. Lise stood, moving quickly to the door as Bodahn stuttered, "I'm sorry, messere, but Serah Hawke isn't in today, and-"<p>

"It's alright, Bodahn. Please, show the Knight-Commander in, and bring some tea."

The dwarf's eyes grew wide when he realized who their visitor was and he bowed quickly. "Right away, messeres. Right away!"

Hawke and Meredith faced one another for a moment, and Hawke was glad to notice that the atmosphere didn't seem quite as stifling as it did in the Gallows. "Please, Knight-Commander. Come into my study."

When they were both seated by the fire, Bodahn brought in tea and Hawke poured as she asked, "How may I help you, messere?" She knew very well why Meredith had come, but she also knew she had to play the game.

"I wanted to speak with you about Ser Emeric. I hear you had been helping him out on his… 'investigation'." She took the cup of tea and Lise marveled at how the woman could wear full templar regalia and still drink out of a small porcelain cup without looking ridiculous.

"Yes, Knight-Commander. He came to me because I'd helped him track down a missing woman previously. I believe that the Guard-Captain has informed you of what we found at the DePuis estate?"

Meredith nodded. "She has. I must commend you, Serah Hawke. It seems as if the man was a dangerous blood mage. Once again, you have served the city of Kirkwall remarkably well."

Lise raised an eyebrow over her own cup of tea. She really wasn't in the mood to play games, but she remembered Orsino's "If playing nicely with Meredith allows me to invite you back again, then I am all for it," and sighed. Then, she wondered if finding a possibly sane mage was worth putting up with this.

She decided to take her chances that it was.

"I am just sorry I was not able to make it back in time to save Emeric." She wanted to say a lot more. Something along the lines of, "If your templars had been paying attention in the first place perhaps this wouldn't have happened," but that wasn't fair – not really. After all, even she'd had no suspicions.

Her guest shook her head, her face darkening. "Please, Serah Hawke. Do not trouble yourself. I've seen the evidence from the DePuis estate, and heard Lady Alessa's testimony. You did the right thing in ending Gascard DePuis' miserable life, and I cannot see how you would have suspected that more harm would come to Emeric. But there _is_ someone dangerous out there, free, and if you would continue to serve Kirkwall I would like to request that you find him and stop him!" Her voice was rising.

Hawke looked surprised, then bowed her head in assent. "Of course, messere. But with the trail ended at DePuis, it may take me a while to find more evidence."

Meredith shrugged, calming down a little. "Of course, Serah. And if any of my men turn up any more information, I will make sure they inform you." She tapped a finger on the handle of her cup, and Lise was alarmed to see a calculating look spring up in her eyes. "Would you say that you are a good citizen of Kirkwall, Serah Hawke?"

"Knight-Commander?" Lise could not keep the confusion out of her voice. "Of course. Why do you ask?"

"I appreciate the way in which you've dealt with so many of our errant mages. These... apostate... tendencies come from somewhere, but I am too conspicuous to be able to hear much from and amongst those in the Circle." She smiled. "But you, I see, got along well with the First Enchanter. I would ask that you stay on his good side and listen. You will, of course, keep me aware of any discontented murmurings you may come across."

An icy knot settled in Hawke's stomach. A spy? For the Knight-Commander? "Messere," she said, carefully. "Are you asking me to seek out evidence against the First Enchanter?"

"Evidence? No. I do not think that Orsino is involved. But he may know something... and you would do well to bring it to me if he ever lets it slip. I'm merely asking for an open ear."

Not knowing what else to do, Lise nodded, slowly. "If I ever find evidence that Orsino knows anything that threatens the safety of Kirkwall, I will inform you."

"Excellent!" Meredith set her cup down and rose to her feet. "I think this has been a productive conversation. Thank you for your cooperation, Serah Hawke. I will see you again another time."

Hawke walked with the Knight-Commander to the door, and as soon as the woman was safely out and down the street she fled out the back, just wanting peace and quiet. The garden was her sanctuary; her mother had a small plot of ornamental flowers near one of the edges where she could talk to the neighbours as she worked, but the rest belonged to Lise.

As it was late autumn, a good number of the flowers were dormant – her roses had already been pruned and tied up, and as her favourite flower, they comprised much of the garden. But here and there were a few asters and camellias, chrysanthemums dotted the beds, and she'd planted rings of canna lilies around every tree. There were apple trees – Bodahn made a wonderful hot mulled cider – and she'd had red maples, looking like living flame, planted liberally throughout the garden. Autumn was her favourite time of the year and she loved the seasonal colours and scents.

There were several herb gardens and a vegetable garden as well – in the spring and summer it was full of berries, tomatoes, cucumbers, lettuces and more, but in the autumn she loved to grow pumpkins, leeks, and butternut squashes. At the moment, she felt the need to get her hands dirty, and so she fell to amongst the kitchen gardens.

She was in the midst of pruning the lavender, elfroot, and mint – and was already feeling more relaxed – when she heard a cleared throat behind her. Whirling around, she was surprised to see First Enchanter Orsino standing underneath a trellis. He looked apologetic, as if not sure his company was welcome, but when she smiled at him, he returned the gesture.

Lise stood, wiping her hands off on a towel. "Please forgive me, but you catch me at a disadvantage. I'm afraid I'm all over dirt and not really fit for company." Her smile, however, showed that if he was willing to ignore it, so was she.

He shook his head. "No, please, Hawke. It is I who intrude. I will leave you to your garden if you wish, but I did want to look in on you, to see how you are." He nodded back at the house. "I brought a few of those books we mentioned, but left them with your manservant."

Laughing, she began to gather her spades and tools, putting them away carefully so that they would not rust. "Please do not be silly, Orsino. This is a long walk just to be sent away so soon – although it seems to be a trip many wish to make today."

Orsino's face darkened a bit. "I heard from Knight-Captain Cullen that Meredith came to see you."

Hawke gave a wry grimace. "She did, indeed. We had a lovely cup of tea, and she commended me on my quick dealings with Gascard DePuis – but she took especial care to mention that I should not blame myself for Ser Emeric's death." She frowned, and looked away.

"But you do, don't you?" He took one of her hands gently, so that she'd look back at him. "Hawke. I heard the whole story, and there is no way that you could have stopped it, except possibly though luck."

She shook her head impatiently. "I cannot believe that! DePuis _told_ me that there was another blood mage, one he was tracking. I could have gotten more from him – or even let him live, to lead me to him. What if he _wasn't_ the one who killed those women?"

Orsino stepped back, crossing his arms. "So, you have the ability to read minds now?"

Lise looked confused. "What?"

He repeated himself. "Can you read minds?"

"Of course not."

"Then how could you have known he was not lying? How could you have been sure that if you'd let him go, another woman wouldn't have died that same night? You did what you could on the evidence you had, and that's all anyone can ask."

She sighed, her shoulders slumping. "I guess you're right. But Meredith wants me to keep tracking this mage, and now we're right back at the beginning – all I know is that DePuis was hunting some apostate who escaped the Starkhaven Circle. Would you know anything about that?"

He looked alarmed, then confused, then shook his head. "No, I don't." If she'd been looking, she might have wondered if he was telling the truth – but she wasn't.

"Then I don't know what to do."

"Do what you have always done, Hawke. Keep your eyes and ears open, and I'm sure that between your Guard-Captain friend and the Knight-Commander, you'll hear something." He placed a hand on her shoulder and looked around the garden.

She saw his glance and smiled, albeit tiredly. "I would love to show you around, Orsino, but neither the garden nor I are at our best – would you like to join me in my study for tea and books?"

He smiled. "Only if you promise to give me a tour at a later date."

"Of course. Just let me gather these for Bodahn." She let him take the basket of herbs, while she picked up a particularly fine pumpkin and an armful of leeks. After delivering them to the dwarf, she showed Orsino into the library and then excused herself to wash up and change.

Lise re-entered the study to find him engrossed in the bookshelves. She laughed, and he looked up. "You certainly do have a wonderful collection here. I see so many things I want to read!"

"Please, feel free." She gestured to a table under the window. "I found the volumes you'd expressed interest in the other night, and I hope you'll borrow any you'd like. I'm just happy that you found the time to visit me so soon."

Orsino was already looking at the books on the table, and after a moment, he laughed, shrugged, and picked them all up. Turning back to Hawke, he grinned, raising an eyebrow. "All it took was an excuse. I'm more than happy to get out of the Gallows, and Maker knows I'd trade an evening alone in for one with such pleasant company any time."

She flushed, and smiled, sitting down in front of the fire. "Actually, I'm glad you're here." She thought of Meredith's visit, and bit her lip, not sure how to tell him of the request.

He saw the motion and frowned. Setting the books down near the door, he came to sit in the same chair Meredith had occupied hours earlier. "Hawke? Is something wrong?"

"Not wrong, but disconcerting." She sighed. "I'm sure it won't surprise you, but I wanted to tell you that Meredith asked me to keep an eye – and ear – on you."

An arched eyebrow. "Did she, now? Are you to make up an offence if I do not provide one for you?"

Lise blinked, feeling a bit stunned. "Orsino, you know I'd never -"

The mage interrupted, sighing. "I know. I'm sorry, Hawke. The fact that you're telling me this now shows that, even if I hadn't already trusted you. I'm just angry – she's constantly looking for corruption and danger everywhere and when she doesn't find it, she's just convinced that it's hiding."

"That's true, but you overlook one thing." She gave him a reassuring smile.

"Am I?" He sat back. "I'm not sure that anything can make Meredith more palatable."

"Not Meredith – but I _have_ been given an excuse to visit any time I wish. So, although you're stuck with me and my friends, you at least now have someone whom you can talk to when things get _too_ horrible out there."

Orsino laughed. "Well, that's something. And I wouldn't say stuck with, Hawke. I happen to enjoy your company, and I'm sure I'll enjoy meeting your friends. Even if you do say that some of them will hate me – well, I'll just have to be more charming then, won't I?"

* * *

><p>Her mother came home later that evening, just as Orsino was bidding her daughter farewell and preparing to leave. Lise introduced the two and after a polite greeting, the mage left, carrying an armful of books.<p>

When the door had closed behind him, Leandra smiled at Lise. "The First Enchanter does seem like a charming young man."

Lise choked back a bit of laughter. "Young, mother?"

"Younger than I am, anyhow." She smiled, and looked closely at her daughter, then shook her head. "Well, I'm sure it's uncomfortable down there. I'll be glad to see him any time he wishes to visit. And Bodahn tells me the Knight-Commander visited today, too? I'm sorry I was not here."

"Don't worry, mother. It was purely for business." She paused, wondering if she should warn Leandra about the missing blood mage, but then shook her head. Time enough on another day for that. Picking up one of the books Orsino had left, she excused herself and went to read until she fell asleep.

* * *

><p><em>As always, the characters all belong to Bioware; I just play with them.<em>


	6. Brandy and Banter

_It's too much fun to write banter with Varric._

* * *

><p><em>Ch. 6, featuring brandy, banter, and a bit of history.<em>

"Ravell?"

"Invite them, but make sure they receive their invitation one day earlier than the de Mercins. Comtesse de Mercin won't care, but Lady Ravell will."

"de Launcet?"

"As long as there are plenty of other silly women to keep his wife busy, or she'll try her damnedest to make Choir-boy forget his vows."

Lise rolled her eyes. "Noted. Saulet?"

"Maker, _no_. No-one ever invites Messere Saulet unless they want their chambermaids insulted, their livestock despoiled, and their alcohol supply severely reduced."

She snorted. "Good grief, Varric. Why haven't the nobles assassinated you yet?"

"Because that would be a waste of a perfectly handsome dwarf. Now, who else is on the list?"

"I think that's it." Hawke leaned back in her chair, grimacing. "Remind me why I'm doing this again?"

"Because Choir-boy's decision to take back the Starkhaven throne is the biggest news in Hightown since Saulet and that damn goat, and because whoever hosts his introduction-to-Kirkwall party will shoot up _miles_ in the nobility's estimation. Also, he's your friend, isn't he?"

She chuckled. "Indeed, as he is yours when he's not annoying you silly with his Chantry talk."

"It makes my teeth itch. You don't think that's going to get any better, do you?" The dwarf took off his spectacles and slid them into his pocket, leaning back against the divan with a mug of ale.

"Doubtful. You know he swore to Elthina that he'd keep his Chantry vows, and that if ever he found another ruler for Starkhaven he'd come back and take his place again as a brother."

"It's a pity. You'd make a good Princess of Starkhaven, my dear." Varric grinned at her and she grimaced.

"Don't try to matchmake, Varric. I like Sebastian well enough but I think he's just a little too... I don't know. Tame seems the best word. Too _tame_ for my taste."

He snorted. "Somehow, Hawke, I think you may just be right."

The two dissolved into laughter just as Orsino walked into the study. Lise looked up with a delighted smile. "Orsino! I didn't expect you today – wasn't there a particularly worrisome set of Harrowings you had to see to this morning?"

The First Enchanter nodded, but smiled. "There were, but the apprentices did quite well and everything was over shortly after lunch. Between that and Meredith's - let's just say _unhappiness - _ that all of the apprentices succeeded, I decided that a walk up to Hightown would be much nicer than sitting in the Gallows all day."

Varric rolled his eyes. "I'd think that a tooth extraction would probably be nicer than sitting in the Gallows all day."

Lise laughed. "Orsino, I don't think you've met Varric." She made the introductions and the two bowed. "And now that's over, will you join us? Varric was just helping me put together a guest list for a party Sebastian will be hosting in a couple of weeks, but we're done and I think we were going to have an afternoon of cider, gossip, and probably lots of goodies since I _think_ Bodahn and Orana were baking today."

The elf smiled widely. "I would be delighted." He took a chair next to the fire as Lise locked her desk and stuck her head out of the study door.

"Bodahn?"

"Messere?"

"Could you bring cider and cakes for the three of us? And if anyone else comes, show them in, by all means."

"Right away, messere."

She took a seat next to Varric on the divan and leaned back, sighing. "It's been a long day, and it's not even mid afternoon."

"Yes, but you at least got a lot done, Hawke. Enough that you can justify playing for at least three days."

She laughed, and Bodahn brought in a pitcher of hot mulled cider along with a platter piled high with cookies and small cakes. "Orana just left, messere, but she wanted me to tell you that she will need the supply lists for Prince Vael's party within the next week to make sure she places the orders in time."

Lise groaned. "_More_ lists, Maker... _Varric_..."

He threw up his hands, laughing. "That's somewhere you can go without me, Hawke. I've got no idea what to serve at a fancy party. Although, I'll be more than happy to help you eat it."

"Can't ask Aveline, or fade forbid, Isabela... Merrill would come up with something odd... and I know Anders is out, but..." she brightened. "Mother! I'll sit with her tomorrow. She might not remember all of the noble families here but she can plan a party with the best of them. Good. Now I can forget about that." She poured mugs of cider for herself and Orsino, but Varric shook his head, holding up his ale.

"Never really been fond of your sweet stuff, but I'll take one of those cakes. Orana is a dream cook." He bit into an apple turnover and sighed, happily. "Speaking of matchmaking and Orana, how's that going? Broody getting any better?"

Hawke laughed, then at Orsino's glance she passed him the tray. "Orana is a young elf I rescued from a particularly nasty magister who was trailing Fenris. She's sweet, but the real world would destroy her, so I took her on as a servant here. Now she's serving as Sebastian's housekeeper, and Fenris is... well, interested, to say the least."

"Is that a good thing?" Orsino took a drink, and then held the mug up. "You were certainly right about Bodahn's cider. This is amazing."

"I'll make sure he sends some back with you. And yes, it's a very good thing. I think Orana and Fenris are perfect for each other. It seems like they're getting closer, but I really don't want any details."

The elf and dwarf laughed, although Orsino choked a bit on his cider. Varric reached over to clap him on the back, then turned back to Lise.

"You'd better be careful, Hawke. You're pushing Choir-boy firmly back into his vows and you've set Fenris to play house with Orana. We'll never get your married at this point!"

She rolled her eyes, flushing. "You sound like mother, Varric. Anyway, you know I only have eyes for you." The sarcasm did not go unnoticed.

"Sorry, babe. You know Bianca has my heart and soul." In a mock whisper to Orsino, he said, "She's my crossbow, and a sweeter lady you'll never meet."

Lise gave a sigh, rolled her eyes again, then reached into a pocket to pull out several hairpins. "Anyhow, I'm sure the First Enchanter doesn't need to hear about my failures in the relationship department."

The dwarf chuckled, leaning towards Orsino, who was trying hard not to laugh _and_ not to look both dismayed and interested at the same time. "I could tell you _so_ many stories. There was this noble last year that-"

"_VARRIC."_

He laughed. "All right, Hawke. Be that way."

She pinned her hair up, shaking it out of her eyes, as she glared at him. "Do I need to get a collar for you? You behave worse than Carver's mabari."

The three of them laughed, but Varric leaned forward, looking at Lise's neck. "Hawke, I never knew you had a tattoo."

She flushed again. "I'd forgotten it was there, to be honest. I was embarrassed about it for so long, and once I'd forgotten I'd already gotten into the habit of hiding it."

As Lise turned her head to speak to Varric, Orsino looked closely at her neck. It was obvious that the tattoo stretched down onto her back, but he could still see a green twist and whirl of some intricate design that reached the roots of her hair. It seemed to follow the curves of her neck, and...

He cleared his throat, sitting back with a flush. Better not to think about what the rest of the design looked like, probably. He took a long drink of his cider.

Varric caught flush out of the corner of his eye and smiled inwardly. But he merely said, "Well, there's got to be a story. Out with it."

She sighed. "Oh, alright. You'll never let it drop if I don't. It's not that special, though, so don't get your hopes up."

"I don't care. Spill."

She sat back, sipping her cider. "You know that as much as I loved Carver, he and I constantly competed at _everything_. Well, he'd just gotten the mabari and I was _livid_."

"Where is Rufus, by the way?"

"Out with mother, I think. Anyhow. I'd always found the idea of a tattoo alluring-"

"So do most men," murmured Varric. She glared at him. "Sorry, Hawke. Continue."

"_Anyhow_. I'd always found the idea of a tattoo alluring, probably because mother forbade it. So I convinced the poor boy who acted as our shepherd to give me one, and made sure that Carver heard _all_ about it. He just didn't hear about _where_ I'd gotten it. So the next day, he came into dinner with scabs and bandages all over the left side of his face, where he'd managed to convince the _same_ poor shepherd boy to tattoo a huge, golden, stylized griffon. Meanwhile, I sat at the table, my bandages hidden beneath my demure dress, and proceeded to calmly eat mutton and greens while he got the _worst_ dressing down."

Varric sat back, guffawing. "That's priceless, Hawke. I assume Leandra found out eventually?"

"Oh, of course. Especially once it started to itch – and _Maker_ did it ever! But by that time she'd already gotten used to Carver's, so mine wasn't so bad."

"I hope that _poor_ shepherd didn't get into too much trouble."

Lise flushed. "Well, he did get dismissed, although father made sure he got another, better position with another family – but I think it had something to do with the fact that, um... well, mother wasn't too happy that the tattoo was quite... in the location... it was."

Varric raised an eyebrow as Orsino coughed and hid his face in his mug. "Hawke, you sly dog."

She raised her hands, her face turning crimson. "I swear, nothing happened! Of course, that's probably why he never thought to charge me for the tattoo whereas Carver had to pay him fifty silver, but..." she shrugged. "I never said I was a perfect maiden when I grew up. But I wasn't _bad_. Just a hoyden." She turned to Varric, who was giving her a calculating look. "It's a Chasind design. And _no,_ you may not see the whole thing."

The dwarf had opened his mouth to say something more, but just then the doorbell rang and they heard Anders' voice. "Hawke?"

She swore, mentally. Anders was the _last_ person she wanted to introduce to the First Enchanter – worse even than Merrill, because not only was it possibly dangerous, but he _hated_ Orsino just by sight alone. The Dalish elf just liked meeting new people. Anders, on the other hand, had an entire quarry's worth of chips on his shoulder. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Varric wince as well.

Still, she kept her voice calm and cheerful, calling out, "In the study, Anders. There's cider and cakes."

The mage came bustling in through the door, rubbing his hands. "Good. I _love_ Bodahn's cider, and if Orana was baking today-"

He froze, looking at Orsino. Lise stood up carefully, praying to the Maker, the Creators, and all the Ancestors she could think of that Anders would at least pretend to be civil. "Anders, this is First Enchanter Orsino. First Enchanter, this is my good friend Anders. He's from Ferelden, like I am."

Orsino could sense the tension in the air when Anders entered the room, and one look told him why. The man was obviously an apostate, and Orsino had a good guess that it was he whom Hawke had referred to when she mentioned her friends that would hate him. But it was clear that he was a good friend of hers, and even as First Enchanter he had no wish to collar anyone who didn't need it. He bowed, deeply.

"It is my pleasure to meet you, Anders. Any friend of Hawke's is a friend of mine."

Anders looked angry, but also confused, and he gave a perfunctory bow though he said nothing to Orsino. He turned to Hawke. "I thought I would find you alone this evening-?"

Varric coughed. "What am I, chopped liver? You knew I'd be here helping her with Vael's shindig."

Anders gave a wave of his hand. "You're just Varric. I just didn't expect Hawke to be entertaining visitors."

She sighed. "Orsino is a good friend of mine, Anders. He's over here frequently, or I visit him."

The apostate gave her a hard look. "I see." His tone was unmistakeably icy. He looked back at Orsino, opening his mouth to say something else when Varric interrupted.

"Maker, look at the time." He jumped up from the divan. "Blondie, walk me home. You know I'm terrible at finding my way through these streets. Hawke, I'll see you tomorrow. First Enchanter -" he bowed to the elf- "I hope to see you another time." He took Anders' elbow and dragged him out the door, spluttering.

He then stuck his head back in, grabbed a few more apple turnovers, and grinned at Lise. "Two for the road. Night, beautiful." He winked, and was gone.

She put her head in her hands. "Of bloody course."

Orsino leaned forward. "Hawke? What's wrong?"

Lise looked up. "You can't tell me you didn't notice."

"That he's a mage? I did. Why does it matter?"

She took a deep breath. "Your knowing about him puts you both in danger."

He frowned. "Hawke, you can't think that I-"

Lise shook her head. "You wouldn't send the templars and that's the problem. One more person knows about _him_, and if anyone ever found out that _you_ knew, but didn't capture him, you'd get in trouble. It's why I never mentioned him."

He took his mug and sat beside her on the divan, patting her hand. "Hawke, don't worry. I know about more than you'd think. And believe it or not, I'm rather good at being circumspect. My dear, you are a very good friend of mine, and I would as soon imprison your friends as I would you. Please, trust me."

She looked up at him for a long while, and he found that he could not stop a slow blush from creeping into his cheeks. It must be the cider, he decided.

After a minute, she stood up, setting her mug down on the desk. "Will you excuse me for a moment, Orsino?"

"Of course, my dear."

Back in the kitchen, Lise reached for the bottle of brandy and took a shot – and gasped, because it was the strong stuff she'd forgotten Varric had given them – and then proceeded to pace in front of the fireplace, thoroughly confusing Bodahn.

"Messere, is everything alright?"

She nodded. "It is. Will you go and make sure the First Enchanter has everything he needs?"

With the dwarf gone, she resumed pacing. She trusted Orsino – but she wasn't sure why. She'd only known him for a month, but her instincts were firmly in the "tell him everything" camp and she was worried that she'd be making a mistake if she _did_.

But she was going to have to make a decision some time, wasn't she?

The more often he came over, the more likely he'd be to meet Merrill, and Anders again, and the longer she went without explaining anything to him, the more likely he'd be to come to the wrong conclusions.

"_Maker._" She rested her head against the bottle, although she didn't drink any more. "I've already decided to tell him about father, and Bethy. I'll just need to explain Merrill, and Anders, too. I have to tell him that Anders isn't really a danger, he and I are only friends, and-"

"_Wait, what?_"

She chose to ignore her inner voice. Picking up the brandy and two snifters, she carried them back into the study, where Orsino was engrossed in the bookshelves again. Standing in the doorway, she smiled, fondly, then made her way back to the divan, placing the bottle on the small table to her right. "I'm sorry I was gone for so long."

Orsino turned, and smiled widely when he saw her, though she could see that he was still concerned. "Please, don't worry about it. Are you alright?"

She nodded, then held up a snifter. "Join me in some brandy?"

He raised an eyebrow, but nodded. "It's not good to drink alone." He took his brandy, and smiled again.

Lise sipped, then swirled her snifter, savouring the taste. "Varric gave us this as a house warming gift. It's good." He nodded, tasting his own, but did not speak. It was obvious that she was working her way towards something she wanted to say. After another sip, she sighed.

"The main reason I know _so much_ about magic is that I've been surrounded by mages my whole life. My father was an apostate who eloped with mother from Kirkwall, and they spent many of my early years on the move from place to place, keeping one step ahead of the templars. Eventually, however, the search died down – I guess they figured he was either safe enough or already dead – and we settled in Lothering about the time that the twins were born."

"The twins?"

"Bethany and Carver, my brother and sister. Carver was as mundane as I am, but whereas I inherited father's looks, Bethy inherited his magic. So a new charade began, in which we made sure that my sister was aware of the difference between mages and templars from an early age, and knew how and when to hide her powers. She was a good girl, of course – so much sweeter than I ever was – and so we really rarely ever had problems. In fact, we were able to stay in Lothering until the blight a few years back."

He nodded. "You mentioned your father when we first met, I think. He's the one who taught you about mages, and how to trust and tolerate them, yes?"

"He was." She blinked a bit, her throat closing slightly. "He died about ten years ago, a few years before Carver and I joined Cailan's army."

Orsino put his hand back over hers. "I'm sorry to hear that, Hawke. I would have liked to meet him, I think."

Lise smiled, looking at his hand. "I would have liked that. I think you two would have gotten along well, even if you _are_ First Enchanter. Too bad you weren't head of the Kirkwall Circle when he escaped."

He chuckled. "I'm not _that_ old, my dear."

She just nodded at that. "Mmm," and took another drink of brandy. "Carver died when we were escaping Lothering. Bloody _idiot_ had to play hero in front of an ogre." She took a deep breath and then shook her head. "He probably saved mother by doing so. But that doesn't mean I'm not still mad at him for leaving us behind."

The mage stayed quiet, listening, his hand still on hers. He barely remembered his family, and so he really didn't have the words to help her. Still, his presence seemed to steady her, and she sighed.

"It's been a while, and I'm over it, but I still have moments. It doesn't help that I was a fool, and let Bethy go on that deep roads expedition a year ago. She got the blight, and the only reason she's alive now is because Anders was there and was able to find us a cache of Grey Wardens. He was one once, you know."

Orsino raised an eyebrow. "No, I didn't."

"Oh, right." She sighed, tipping her glass back to drain it. "Well, she's a Grey Warden, now. I guess it's better than constantly being on the run from the blighted templars and the Circle-" Lise caught herself a moment too late and winced. "Sorry."

He chuckled. "My dear, don't worry about it. I feel the same way. Go on?"

"I guess that's really it. You met Anders. He's got a lot of other problems, other than being an apostate – but I can't really tell you about them, I hope you understand." Orsino nodded. "And then there's Merrill. She's a cute little dalish blood mage."

He blinked, sure he hadn't heard her right. "Beg pardon?"

Hawke gave a laugh that was halfway between a sigh and a chuckle. "I don't think she's ever hurt anyone, and the only blood she's ever used was her own. But she's hell-bent on getting that eluvian to work, and-"

"Did you say eluvian?"

She nodded and outlined Merrill's story for him. He took a deep breath. "I'd love to see the mirror, if she'll ever let me – though I won't force it if she'd rather not. But Hawke, be careful. I commend you for trying to rehabilitate her, but if she ever-"

"If she ever becomes possessed, or kills someone else for blood magic, I've already promised to put an arrow straight through her heart."

He winced at the finality in Hawke's voice, but nodded. "Then you are taking every precaution you can." He tapped the edge of his glass. "How does Fenris manage with them around?"

She laughed, wryly. "He doesn't, usually. I try to keep them out of each others' hair. But yes, sometimes it's like trying to keep a pack of puppies and kittens from climbing all over me to get at each other."

With that, she guided the conversation into other tracks, telling him amusing stories about their life in Lothering, and some of what her group had been up to since they all met in Kirkwall two years ago. Less than an hour later, they heard Leandra's voice. "Lise, dear, are you home?"

"In the study, mother."

She looked in, smiling when she saw Orsino. "First Enchanter. Will you stay for dinner?"

He looked at Lise, who nodded to him. "Please do."

* * *

><p>The next day was not enjoyable for Lise. She had a headache from drinking so much brandy, it was proving nearly impossible to arrange the menu for Sebastian's fête to Leandra's satisfaction – although they were finally done a few hours after lunch – and once she'd finally gotten <em>out<em> of the house and _into_ her garden for some peace and quiet, Anders showed up.

"Since when are you _best friends_ with the _First Enchanter_ of the bloody Circle?"

She winced, and pressed her hand to her head. "Dammit, Anders. If you're going to scream, go away. I'm not going to deal with it today."

He lowered his voice, but began to pace, and she watched him wondering just how many turns it'd take him to wear a new path between the lavender and the embrium.

"Are you crazy? You know it's not safe with him around! I'll have templars on my doorstep within a week. You didn't tell him where I live, I hope?"

She sat back on her heels and gave him the Hawke Look. He stopped pacing for a moment and looked away, grumbling. "Do you _really_ think I'm that unreliable, Anders? Yes, he knows you're a mage – it doesn't take a scholar to figure that one out, since you _refuse_ to stop wearing robes. I'm sure you also smell like magic, although I'd have no earthly idea on that point. Do I think you're in trouble? No. Do I trust him? Yes. I don't expect _you_ to trust him – Maker knows I have _no_ illusions in that regard although it'd really be nice if you _did_ since I consider him a good friend – but do I expect you to trust me? Yes. And if you can't, then you can just bloody well find someone else to play diamondback with."

He looked chagrined, flushing as he turned away. He paced a bit more, then took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and turned back. "Alright, Hawke. I'm sorry. I'm – not going to go, because you're my best friend and I can't just leave like that."

"Thank you, Anders." She stood, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You're my friend, too, and I don't want you to go. But I want you to at least have a bit of faith in me." He nodded, slowly. "Now, can you do something about this damnable headache?"

He chuckled quietly, putting a hand on her forehead. "That, I can do. I'm sorry I yelled at you, Hawke."

"It's ok, just don't do it again."

* * *

><p><em>As always, the characters belong to Bioware, I just play with them.<em>


	7. Triangles and Circles

_I'd say poor Anders, but I'm still angry about the ending of DA2 and how _dare_ he spoil the wonderful personality he had in Awakening? Oh well. ./endrant. Enjoy!_

* * *

><p><em>Ch. 7, in which Isabela teases, Orsino sighs, Anders confesses, and Hawke falls asleep.<em>

"What, not going to see the First Enchanter tonight?" Varric sat down across the table in the common room at the Hanged Man with a grin, and Lise blinked at him, then raised an eyebrow.

"Why, should I be? Is there an occasion I missed? Is there a reason I can't just come and see my friends when I want to?"

"Oh, come on, Hawke. You've been spending half your time up in the Gallows, and the other half of the time he's become a fixture in your study."

She sighed. "And what, I'm not allowed to have any friends who aren't you guys? Give me a break. You and Fenris visit as much as he does!"

"Yes, beautiful, but I'm me. That doesn't count. And Fenris happens to be sleeping with your servant." The dwarf chuckled, flagging down Edwina and ordering an ale for each of them.

Hawke grimaced at him. "Thanks for that mental image, Varric. I really didn't need to think about Fenris and Orana."

"Oooooh, tight leather and silver tattoos, _nom_. I'll think about _that_ any time. Why are we giving Hawke hell? What did I miss?" Isabela sauntered up to the table with a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a pack of cards in the other.

Varric gave her a conspiratorial grin. "Well, Rivaini, it just so _happens_ that Hawke has a new friend that Anders doesn't seem to approve of."

The pirate scoffed. "Anders doesn't approve of a lot of things, so that doesn't mean much. And that stick-up-the-arse spirit is even worse."

"Yes, but this _happens_ to be the First Enchanter."

Isabela grinned slowly. "Ooooh, Hawke. I never pegged you as one who went for men in power. I figured you'd like to be the one calling the shots." She winked, and Lise threw up her hands, though she blushed.

"There is _nothing_ between Orsino and me! Maker! He's a good friend and sometimes it's nice to have an adult conversation, you know! Plus, the rest of you are _horrible_ at chess." Varric and Isabela laughed as Hawke rolled her eyes at them over the rim of her mug.

Just then, Fenris came walking up. He put a hand on the back of her chair. "Alright, why is it 'bait Hawke' night?"

"We're just giving her hell about the First Enchanter, elf."

Fenris rolled his eyes, taking a seat next to Lise. "Why? He's respectable and pleasant enough, I suppose."

Everyone turned to look at him, and Isabela's mouth actually hung open.

"Who are you and what have you done with Broody?" Varric pretended to faint.

Fenris shrugged, taking the bottle of wine Edwina brought over. "Hawke asked me to get to know him, so I have. He's a mage, and he'll probably turn into an abomination some day and kill us all, but until then I have no complaints with his manners."

Isabela shook her head. "You were so much sexier when you were angsty." Fenris rolled his eyes again, and she sat down beside Varric. "All right, people. Let's have a hand before the other elf and the angry, glowy thing get here."

An hour later, Anders and Merrill had joined the group. Anders sat down next to Lise, and as they were in the middle of a hand, sat his chin on her shoulder and tried to give her advice about which cards to play. She finally shoved him away. "Anders, you're cheating. And if I take your advice, I'll _lose_."

Varric and Isabela exchanged looks where Hawke couldn't see them, as Anders then proceeded to pout at her. She sighed. "You don't even _like_ dogs, Anders, so stop trying to give me the puppy eyes. They don't work." Then, across the table to Varric. "And what are the two of you whispering about?" The dwarf and the pirate exchanged glances and then laughed. Lise sighed. "I have a feeling I'm going to get trounced tonight, and badly."

The evening was winding down to a close when an exhausted-looking Aveline, still in Guard-Captain regalia, came in and sat down at the end of the table. "Maker, what a _week_."

Fenris slid his bottle over and she took it with a nod of thanks. "They had us surrounding the Gallows for the last three days while the templars did a thorough search of every common area inside the buildings. The only places they weren't allowed to go were the mages' quarters, except for the apprentice barracks which have folks in and out of them every few weeks anyhow."

Anders gripped the table, angrily. "What in Thedas makes them think they have the right-" he gritted his teeth. "What were they looking for, conspiracies? Hidden bombs?'

Lise looked at him. "Can you stop thinking about terrorism for a moment?" He glared back at her. "This actually had nothing to do with the mages _inside_ the tower. Apparently that fringe group is still trying to break Feynriel out of the Gallows and Meredith was afraid that there was a hidden passage they might be able to use."

Anders had opened his mouth to sneer at Meredith's name, but he blanched at her last remark. She shook her head. "They won't find it, Anders. Don't worry."

"How do you know?" He scowled.

"Because apparently there was a fire in that room – out of control experiment or something like that – and Orsino personally oversaw the installation of a new statue of Andraste over the burned place so as to hide the damage. And strangely enough, the statue just so happens to be hollow, and there just so happens to be room behind it. It's a tight fit, and there's no way the templars could have found it." She smirked.

At the other end of the table, Aveline was pretending to be very interested in a story Fenris was telling her so as to not 'hear' the conversation between Hawke and Anders.

Anders' eyes widened, and he looked livid. "How did he even find out?"

"I didn't tell him, if that's what you're trying to say. He's not an idiot, you know. When he mentioned it to me, I asked him if there was any way he could keep it hidden."

"Well, there goes that, then. The mage underground is ruined – there's no way I'm going to stick my peoples' necks out like that. If he knows, it's lost."

"For fade's _sake_, Anders! Stop being an ass! 'Your people'? He's _one_ of your people! Orsino is on your side, you know? You could do worse than to trust him."

Anders pushed himself away from the table and stalked off.

"Well, that was awkward," Varric said.

Aveline rolled her eyes. "That man is going to break some day."

"He needs to get laid, if you ask me. It certainly made Fenris relax." Isabela looked at Hawke. "You two are angry at each other enough that I bet the sex would be _great_."

Fenris scowled. "That's not even funny, Isabela."

Lise looked daggers at her friend. "It's certainly not."

The Guard-Captain cleared her throat, changing the subject. "I can't stay any longer – I'm about to drop. But I figured you'd like to know, Hawke, that the curfew in the Gallows is lifted and you can go visit again."

Varric turned to Hawke with a slow grin. "Just wanted to see us, eh?"

She turned bright red. "I did! I would have been here anyway; it's been over a week since I last visited!"

"Sure, sure. You keep telling yourself that." The dwarf laughed and slid her winnings across the table as she got up to go.

"If you guys keep it up, the only people I'll invite to Midwinter will be Aveline, Merrill, and Fenris."

"So you're still having it? You're not going to host some fancy society party?" Isabela looked disgruntled.

Lise laughed. "Sorry I couldn't invite most of you to Sebastian's party, but honestly - I shouldn't have even been there except that I was the host. And you didn't miss anything. No one was that attractive, and there was an under-abundance of alcohol."

The pirate scoffed. "Never mind then. You nobles are _boring_."

"You know that's not true, Izzy. But yes, I am holding Midwinter like usual. Do you think I'd miss it? I'll get everyone more information once I've talked it over with mother – I'm sure she'll want to do something a little fancier this year."

As she put on her cloak and scarf, Fenris got up. "I'm calling it a night, too. Have a good one, everyone. I'll walk you home, Hawke." She nodded, waved to the group, and the two stepped out into the cold night.

Days were short now, and when she sniffed at the moonlight she could smell a hint of snow. "Wouldn't it be wonderful to have a white Midwinter?"

Fenris gave a non-committal grunt, turning his own dark cloak up further around his ears.

"You don't say."

He shrugged. "It's cold, and it's wet. It rarely snowed in Minrathous, and never in Seheron."

They walked for a while in companionable silence. Then, as they reached the stairs into Hightown, she pushed back her hood, turning to look at him. "Thanks, Fen."

"About?" He paused, one hand on the railing.

"Orsino. What you said back there. I knew you'd been making an effort to come over when you knew he'd be there, but I didn't realize it had done any good."

Fenris shrugged again. "It has and it hasn't, Hawke. I'd still rather he be out of your life, part and parcel. But I can see that you care about him, and I also realize that even with him gone, Anders and Merrill would still be here. Orsino's a damn sight more reliable than they are. I'm not going to say he's _sane_, necessarily, but if you have to spend time with a mage, I'd rather it be him. Anders is growing more and more unstable."

She nodded, her eyes dark and worried. "I've noticed that. We fight so much these days... I don't even know why. I mean, yes, it's the mages. It's his damn refusal to bend in the slightest – he goes out of his way to _pick_ fights. But I see the look in his eyes, and I think even he doesn't want to be as contrary as he is." She sighed. "And the worst part is, I don't know if there's any way to make it any better."

Fenris gave her a level look. "When the dog becomes mad, the only thing to be done is put it out of its misery."

Hawke frowned deeply. "Don't say that again, Fen. He's a living, thinking man, and he's _not_ crazy. He can control this, I know he can. He just needs to learn how. He's my friend, and I'll stand by him unless there's just no other options." She shook her head. "I don't- I don't want to talk about this. It's bad enough that I dread him coming to visit because I don't want to deal with his snarkiness towards Orsino. I don't want to think about the possibility of things getting worse."

* * *

><p>It was mid-afternoon the next day before Lise finally got the last of the herbs and vegetables out of her garden, covering the rest so that it could go dormant in the cold ground. Now, the only things she'd have to tend to were the hardy winter-grasses and shrubs that she'd planted.<p>

She was cleaning up, trying to go over a list of books she needed to return to Orsino that night when she heard Anders' voice downstairs. "Hawke? Hawke, are you home?"

Holding a towel, she went to the top of the stairs. "Anders? Is something wrong?"

He was standing in the foyer, patting Rufus absentmindedly, swinging a bag in the other hand. When she came into view, he smiled, looking a bit shame-faced, and held it up. "I wanted to come by and say I'm sorry. Maybe spend the evening together, talking. We haven't done that in a while."

Lise very carefully finished drying her hands, thinking. She was _really_ looking forward to seeing Orsino tonight. It had been several days, and she... well, she missed him. Nothing strange about that.

But she didn't have the heart to say no to Anders. He was one of her oldest friends in Kirkwall, and it _had_ been a while since they'd spent any time together, just talking. He looked like he was in a good enough mood, and perhaps with a pleasant enough night she'd be able to get him to relax a little. Stop being angry at every little thing. She sighed quietly, thinking a bit wistfully of chess and green eyes, then smiled at him.

"That sounds lovely, Anders. Make yourself at home in the study? I'll need to send out a few notes and then I'll be free for the rest of the evening. We can eat there, as mother won't be home until late."

The mage nodded. "How is Leandra?"

"Fine. She's become close friends with Flora Harriman since we cleared out that mess in their cellar. Poor girl feels absolutely distraught over what her mother did to Sebastian's family. I think mother's a sort of surrogate replacement to her." She sat down at her desk to pen a letter to Orsino.

Anders watched the pen scratch silently, then raised an eyebrow as she wrapped up a few books, a bottle of cider, and tied the note to the top. "Was I interrupting your evening?"

Lise smiled. "You were, but that's all right. We haven't spent time together in far too long – my plans will wait a bit." She went to the kitchen and, opening a side door, she whistled shrilly. Moments later, a small boy, no more than ten, came running up. "Messere Hawke?"

She gave him the parcel and some silver pieces. "Take this to the Gallows and deliver it to the First Enchanter, will you? If they won't let you in, give it to Knight-Captain Cullen – you can tell him that Serah Hawke sent it. And then make sure you get something warm to eat." She gave him a stern look. "Have you all found places to sleep now, out of the cold?"

The boy shrugged. "For th' most part, milady. Dorrie an' Cutter found a woman in Darktown who'll put 'em up if'n they sweep the passages. Rhodie's in with that Ferelden lady in Lowtown, but I don't know about Wasp or Jemmie."

"And you, Wolf?" She put a hand on her hip.

He shrugged again. "Reckon I can find somewhere t'sleep with this." He held up one of the silver pieces.

Lise shook her head. "Not good enough. You know that shed down in the bottom of the garden? It's empty and clean. I'll put some bedding in there – make sure you get Wasp and Jemmie and if they don't have anywhere to sleep, the three of you come back. That way the lot of you can come and go without giving Lady Leandra or Bodahn a heart attack."

The boy blinked up at her, and then grinned. "Thanks, messere!" He then ran off, quick as lightning, and she smiled.

"You'd make a good mother, Hawke." She turned to see Anders in the doorway, and shook her head, smiling. "No, I mean it."

"I wouldn't. I'm too fickle, too flighty, and too impulsive, and I can't even keep _you_ lot in check. But thank you." She smiled at him. "Come on back to the study. You brought wine, didn't you?"

He grinned. "Guilty as accused, messere."

* * *

><p>Orsino finished placing the pieces on the chessboard before the fire, next to the chairs they always used. He smiled down at the board – it was getting to be evening and Hawke should be along any time.<p>

Just then, there was a knock at his door. He opened it, expecting Hawke, but instead found Ser Cullen, who handed him a wrapped bundle with a note attached. "Excuse my interruption, First Enchanter, but a young man just dropped this off for you. He says it's from Serah Hawke."

Orsino looked alarmed, taking the bundle. Cullen cleared his throat, embarrassed. "Do you mind if I watch you open it? If word gets back to the Knight-Commander that I passed you a wrapped bundle without first seeing what was inside..."

The First Enchanter sighed and rubbed his forehead. "Of course, Knight-Captain. I just appreciate that you gave it to me first." Cullen nodded, and Orsino unwrapped the books and bottle. He uncorked it. "Bodahn's cider. Would you like a mug?" He realized that this meant she was most likely not coming tonight, but tried his best to hide his disappointment before the templar.

Cullen shook his head, still looking embarrassed. "No, thank you, First Enchanter. I'm sorry to trouble you – I'll leave you to it, then. Have a good evening."

When the door closed, Orsino broke the seal on the letter.

_"Dear friend,"_ it read.

_"Aveline told me yesterday – too late at night in my opinion – that the curfew was lifted, and I was delighted to hear it. I'm glad Meredith has calmed down a bit. I had every plan to come visit you tonight, no matter how busy you might be, but Anders came by and as we had a fight last night I felt it was more politic for me to stay and make it up with him. I feel a bit bad, as I've known him for years, but spend so little time with him now. I hope you are not too disappointed in me – even though we made no definite plans, I know. But I know you, and am sure you'll just spend your night engrossed in a book and forget all about me. Just know that I miss you horribly and that diamondback is no substitute for a good game of chess in front of the fire._

_I will see you tomorrow, I hope, unless you send word that you will be too busy._

_Yours affectionately, Elisebeth Hawke"_

Orsino sat down in the chair he'd set aside for her and sighed, looking at the glasses laid out beside her favourite Orlesian wine. It wasn't the first time he'd felt a bit like an old fool, once he was gone and away from her company. But then he shook his head, and stood up, resolutely. "It's not even been a week – I can handle another day. It's not like I didn't spend every evening alone before we met; I've just grown used to the warmth of company. I'll take her advice and lose myself in a book – although I'm not going to just forget."

He rummaged through the pile she sent him and pulled one out, then put up the glasses, set the chessboard aside where it would not get knocked to the ground, and banked the fire. After a moment, he carefully folded the note and placed it in his desk; but before he locked the drawer he looked down and wondered, for the first time, just what Hawke and Anders' relationship was.

* * *

><p>Several hours, two bottles of wine, and a good dinner later, the two friends sat on the divan in front of the fire. Both were more than a little tipsy.<p>

"So what," asked Anders, gesturing with his glass, "is with the pile of urchins you've acquired?"

Lise blinked at him. "You mean Wolf and company?" She sat up, swearing. "I forgot to fix up the shed. Bodahn!"

"Messere?" The dwarf looked in at the study door.

"The shed. I told Wolf and-"

"It's already done, messere. I overheard you talking to the young man and figured you'd be busy with company."

"You're a lifesaver, Bodahn. Thank you."

"Will you need anything else?"

"No thank you. Anders will see himself out, eventually. Good night, Bodahn."

"Good night, messere."

She turned back to Anders, looking relieved. "Well, I was always having to send bloody notes – not really bloody, you know, although sometimes with what we get into..." she blinked again. "Anyway. I sent so many notes to you and Fen and Varric and Aveline and everyone else – at least Izzy and Varric live in the same damn place – that we found ourselves with a surplus of children who all wanted to run our errands and earn our coin. So instead, I've set them to just keeping their eyes and ears open around the city – little spies, if you will – and any time we're looking into something they usually manage to find me at least some information I can use. And they're still good for carrying your damn letters." She sank back against the divan, draining her glass. "Whoo. I think that's a bit of enough for me, or I'll _never_ get out of bed tomorrow."

Anders smiled down at her. "It's been a while since we talked like this, hasn't it, Hawke?"

She returned the smile, looking up at him. "It has. It's good to see you smile, Anders. You don't do it enough."

His smile faded a little as he looked down into her bright green eyes, glittering in the firelight. Maker, but she was so beautiful... she was still looking up at him, and he leaned closer to her lips, beginning to close his eyes.

All of the sudden she pushed him away. "_Careful_, Anders. Don't fall asleep on me, it's far too warm in here and you're too heavy, and too drunk." She sat back carefully as he opened his eyes, confused. It was apparent that the moment was broken – or had only been in his mind.

He turned his head away, and spoke, a little bitterly. "The only reason I can smile is because you're by my side, Hawke. Sometimes I think that's the only thing that keeps me sane, keeps Justice in check. You mean so much more to me than I could ever say..."

She was silent, and he looked back at her in time to catch her as she slid along the back of the divan, fast asleep. He sighed, carefully setting her down to lie across the couch. Standing up, he looked down at her for a long while, then shook his head. "I love you, Hawke, but I'm not foolish enough to think you feel the same way. We may be friends, but I'm just an abomination, after all." Shrugging, he picked up the rest of the last bottle of wine and slipped out the back door to make his way home.

* * *

><p><em>The characters all belong to Bioware, I just play with - and sometimes torment - them.<em>


	8. Headaches, Heartaches, and Qunari

_Hello, Arishok._

* * *

><p><em>Ch. 8, in which our heroine has a hangover, our hero offers his assistance, and a theft is committed.<em>

Hawke woke the next morning, blinking up at the ceiling for a good several minutes while she groggily reorganized her brain cells. Once she realized that she was still in the study, she sat up, groaning. She was still in her dress from the previous day, but someone had slipped her shoes off and put a blanket over her – which was nice, as the fire had died down, probably in the middle of the night.

She winced as she stood, her head pounding. "_Maker_, I haven't been that drunk in years. Not even when Izzy spikes my drinks." Shuffling out into the foyer, she saw her mother coming down the stairs.

Leandra raised an eyebrow. "Good morning, dear. Did you and the First Enchanter have a fight?"

Lise stopped, her hand on the railing. "Uh… no, mother. Why do you ask?" Her heart hammering, she wondered if perhaps she'd made him mad and he'd sent over an angry letter – or something worse.

"Well, when I came home last night you were asleep in the study, and with the empty bottles, I thought…" her mother did not finish, but instead shrugged eloquently.

"Oh. No, mother. Anders came over to apologize for a fight we'd had and we spent the evening talking and drinking. I think I had a little too much, though I didn't drink _all_ of the wine."

Bodahn came into the hall at that moment. "Ahh, Mistress Amell, Mistress Hawke. I trust you are not feeling too ill this morning, messere?"

Lise winced. Did everyone have to comment on it? "Actually, I feel like a shipwreck, but I'll survive."

"Indeed, messere, I thought that you and Serah Anders would stay up later than you did, but I heard him slam the door on his way out not too long after you bid me goodnight. He was not angry, I hope?"

She paused, and thought back over the previous night. She remembered dinner, and drinking far too much… they'd talked, but otherwise, she couldn't think of anything that would have angered him – but she also didn't remember him leaving. "I don't think so, Bodahn. I'm sure he was also just tipsy as well."

Leandra patted her shoulder. "You should get a bath, darling. That will make you feel better."

Lise nodded. "I will. Thank you, mother."

* * *

><p>A few hours later, she wandered into Varric's suite in the Hanged Man. From the entrance, she could hear Anders inside, talking to the dwarf, though she couldn't hear any words. She smiled a little, wincing at a shaft of light that came straight through the window and caught her eye, and pushed the door open. "Afternoon, boys."<p>

Varric grinned, but Anders quickly stood. He wouldn't meet her gaze, and when she tried to joke with him about being "too many sheets to the wind last night", he merely said, "Send one of your runners to my clinic later and I'll get you a purgative." Nonplussed, she stood and watched him leave without even saying goodbye. Then, she looked back at the dwarf, who shrugged and raised an eyebrow.

"Blondie's acting like something terribly embarrassing occurred between the two of you but he's certainly not relaxed enough to have gotten laid… so what the hell happened last night, Hawke?"

She blinked at him. "Maker, I don't _know_, Varric. I don't remember anything but drinking and talking and laughing, and…" suddenly, the last few minutes of the night, before she'd fallen asleep, came into sharper focus. "Oh _Andraste,_ did he really? I thought it was just my imagination!" She covered her mouth, turning bright red.

"Ok, Hawke. Spill. I deserve to know why one of my best friends is acting particularly miserable right now."

She sighed and sank into one of his low, dwarven chairs and put her elbows on the table, sinking her face into her hands. "We were _really_ drunk, and I think – I think he tried to kiss me."

The dwarf looked at her for a long while, then laid his head back and laughed. "Ancestors, what an _idiot_. I knew he had it bad, but I figured that, like the rest of us, he realized you were a lost cause."

She blinked at him. "I know I'm particularly stupid at the moment and my head hurts so much that I can't count past five, but what does _that_ mean?"

"In case you haven't been able to tell, Blondie has a Thing for you, Beautiful. But apparently he's not been paying enough attention. Which makes sense, since he usually only notices the things that affect him directly – which are you, and the Plight of All Mages."

She blinked, blushing. "I- had no idea. But I'm still confused. No, I don't feel the same way about him, but is it really that obvious?"

He gave her a strange look. "You're trying to tell me you really don't-" he sat back. "Well, I'll be. You really _don't_ know. Apparently you and Blondie have more in common than I would have thought."

"Varric, my head is pounding, my stomach has been running races all day, and I'm confused. Don't play games." She tried to fix him with the Hawke Look, but failed miserably.

"Uh-uh. Nope. I shouldn't have even told you about Blondie but I figured it was pretty much a foregone conclusion. You can figure the rest out on your own, Hawke."

"Vaaaarric…"

"Don't 'Vaaaarric' me. You need to go home, send for that potion of Blondie's, and get some rest. As long as there aren't any more crazy blood mages running around right now and no one's house is burning down, the rest of it can wait. You look awful."

She got up, cringing. "Thanks for the vote of confidence. But I think I'll take your advice, anyway. I'll see you later." In the doorway, however, she stopped and turned back. "Hey. What… should I do about Anders?"

He shook his head. "If you want my advice – and you should, because I'm always right – don't do anything. Obviously you'll need to leave him alone for a while, because we all know that he needs a bit of time to calm down. But otherwise just show him that you're not going to let anything change between the two of you. And Maker, above all _don't_ be sympathetic. That'll just sting."

* * *

><p>Lise went home, but she didn't send Wolf to Anders' clinic. She felt rather like she deserved the pain, all things considering. She wondered what it was that Varric had refused to tell her, but her head hurt too much to try to puzzle it out for the moment, so instead she went out into the garden. She didn't have any actual <em>gardening<em> to take care of, but the brisk air helped clear her head a little, so once she was bundled up enough she sat down on the bench at the edge of their small pond and watched the bare weeping willow branches trail through the water. After a while the sun finally succumbed to the clouds, and the weather seemed to altogether reflect her current mood.

She must have dozed, because she was stiff and her nose was cold when she started awake. Orsino was standing above her; it was his calling her name that had woken her. She smiled, all pain forgotten for the moment.

It came back quickly enough, however, when she swung her feet off the bench to sit up. The throbbing ache in her head and the queasiness in her stomach hit all at once and she groaned, leaning forward. Within seconds he was sitting beside her, his arm around her shoulders. "What's wrong, Hawke? Are you ill?"

She gave him a wry smile, oddly touched by the concern in his voice. "If I am, it's my own fault, Orsino. I overindulged on wine last night with Anders and I'm paying the price for my mistake. And considering that apparently I've been quite insensitive lately, I feel it's only fitting."

He frowned. "I refuse to believe that, Hawke." Without another word, he softly put a hand on her forehead, laying the other on her shoulder, and she felt the familiar yet unfamiliar sensation of healing magic wash over her, immediately soothing her pain. She gasped in relief, having not quite realized just how badly she felt until she was well again.

It had always seemed curious to her that each mage had a different feel to his or her healing spells. Generally, she noticed that it corresponded with the type of person they were. Her father's had always felt strong and protective – her sister's, warm, simple, and comforting. Anders' was raw and exhilarating, like standing on a windswept precipice, but Orsino's gave her an odd feeling of breathlessness, of déjà-vu. As if she were standing in a place she'd never been before and yet still knew like the back of her hand.

Intimately.

The implications of the realization caused Varric's meaning to come crashing home suddenly and she buried her face in her lap to hide her extreme blush. She pushed it to the back of her mind – now was _not_ the time to try to reason it out – and sat up with a faint smile. A slightly-shuttered smile, because she didn't want him noticing anything she hadn't even fully parsed herself, but genuine enough.

He still had his arm on her shoulder and was watching her with concern, but when she smiled at him he relaxed. "All better?"

She nodded. "Thank you, Orsino. If you hadn't come along I would have just tried to soldier it out."

He laughed. "At least it was just a hangover. I won't even give you the lecture I usually would because I know that it's a rare occasion for you to overindulge, indeed. In fact, I don't think I've ever known you to do so." At these words, a hint of unease flickered over his face and he focused on her. "Is everything alright?"

Lise shrugged, looking off into the distance. "I suppose so. Anders and I didn't exactly fight this time, but apparently I've been insensitive to him and things aren't at their happiest between us."

He sat back, watching her. "I see. Can I help in any way?"

She shook her head. "Not unless there's a magical cure for heartbreak."

She heard him inhale, sharply. "Did he-" but she interrupted with a shake of the head.

"No, _I'm_ the one who broke _his_ heart."

Disguising his relief at this statement was difficult for Orsino, and he was glad that she was still looking away. After a moment, he said, "I see. Poor Anders."

Lise laughed mirthlessly. "I don't know about that. He seems to enjoy being a martyr. I don't know how much of it is even that he really _cares_ about me in that way, versus seeing me as a figurehead for his damn mage revolution." She sighed.

He looked a bit alarmed at the rawness in her tone. "And if you found that he _did_ care about you in 'that way'?" She gave him a look that quite plainly said, 'are you crazy?' and he relaxed again.

"Are you crazy? He's mad, insane, and possibly delusional, even if he is a dear friend. I've never once thought of him in a romantic capacity. Which means I never thought that he might feel that way about _me_." She sighed, resting her chin on her hand. "But that also means that I just hurt someone very close to me, and I can't shake the guilt."

"But it's not your fault."

"I know that, but do you really think it makes anything better?" She gave him a long look, and reluctantly, he shook his head.

"I suppose not."

Part of Lise's mind was screaming at her by this time. Why on earth was she telling him all this? Especially considering – _considering_. But then, the rational part stepped in. She'd never had a problem confiding her troubles to him before now, and Maker knew he'd come to her enough about the Knight-Commander and all of the horrible restrictions she'd been putting the Circle through. They were friends, and that's what friends did. They listened.

They sat quietly for some time, watching the breeze blow ripples across the pond. Eventually the cold got to be too much for her and she shivered. "Let's go inside, shall we?"

Orsino nodded, and they started back to the manor. Before they could get inside, however, a runner – not one of her ragtag children, but a young man in the Viscount's livery – skidded to a halt in front of the estate. "Serah Hawke?"

She nodded, opening the gate and going to meet him, Orsino close behind her. The boy held out a sealed scroll. "From the Viscount, messere. He says it's very important."

She took it, and handed him a copper. "Are you to wait for a reply?"

"No, messere. But he asked me to stress again that you must attend to it without delay." She merely nodded, and the boy ran back towards the keep.

Lise and Orsino went into the manor and after Bodahn took their wraps, she requested tea in the study. Sitting down by the fire, she motioned for Orsino to take the other chair and carefully broke the wax seal on the scroll.

"_Serah Hawke,_

_You, of all people, understand my dilemma with the qunari. In all the years they have been here, they have asked for nothing, and it is that fact alone that has enabled me to silence their naysayers, and quell the fanatics that constantly seek to incite war against them. However, today, I find myself in an exceptionally awkward position. The Arishok has written to me and asked for your presence. By name. I do not know what he wants, but I request that you see to it immediately; tonight if at all possible. You have already done much for me, and for Kirkwall ~ please do not fail me in this._

_Viscount Marlowe Dumar"_

Lise blinked, looking up at Orsino. "It's the Arishok. Apparently he's requested my presence, and Viscount Dumar wants me to go – immediately." She frowned. "I am sorry, I know we were going to spend the evening together, but-"

Orsino held up a hand. "Do not apologize, my dear. I understand completely. But may I offer any of my services?"

She began to shake her head, but then looked at him, thoughtfully. "I'm not sure, actually. I don't know what he wants, after all. I would not take you with me into the compound, not with the qunari views on mages – but if you would like to wait outside, it would certainly make me more at ease."

He bowed. "Then I will gladly do so."

"Let me send a note for Fenris – I need his help in this, as he understands the Qun better than any of the rest of us – and then change, quickly." She scribbled a note, called for Bodahn, bade him find one of the boys to deliver it to Fenris, and then rushed to her room. When she returned a quarter of an hour later, however, Orsino blinked; he'd expected elaborate visiting clothes, but instead she was dressed in her leathers with her bow at her back. Lise smiled when she saw his confused look. "The Arishok cares a lot more for skill and efficiency than he does useless trimming and trappings. I very much doubt he has requested me for my diplomacy."

Orsino merely nodded and the two of them left the estate, walking rapidly towards Fenris' home. The elf met them outside, and surprisingly, Sebastian was with him. He bowed when she approached. "Hawke. I was visiting Fenris when your note came, and I wondered if I could offer my assistance?"

She nodded, looking relieved. "Whatever's up, I doubt it'll be nothing but talk and tea. I'll be glad to have you along." She stepped back, allowing Orsino to step forward. "The First Enchanter was visiting _me_ when the summons came, and he has offered his assistance, as well." She introduced him to Sebastian, and Fenris also nodded to him. "He will remain outside the compound – Maker knows we don't want to irritate their mage sensibilities – but if there is a task, and I'm sure there will be, his help will be invaluable."

* * *

><p>Another quarter of an hour brought them to the qunari compound in the docks. She looked at Orsino, who nodded. "I will wait here, friends. If you need me, do not hesitate to summon me." He raised his hood and faded into the shadows quickly enough that Lise realized, blinking, that it must have been a spell.<p>

The approached the Arishok's makeshift throne of carved grey wood with red trappings, like blood, upon the seat. Despite the rising moon, he was still seated, as if certain his summons would bring her immediately. He stood when they approached; other than the nodding and bowing of heads, there was no more ceremony.

"Serah Hawke. When we first met, I did not know your name and did not care to. But you have risen fast in your city, and your name has been on the lips of many. And as you once did me a courtesy, so will I do one for you. Someone has stolen what they think is the recipe for _gaatlok_; it was a trap, and they have instead acquired the formula for _saar-qamek_. You know the danger of the one; trust me when I say that the other is a poison gas that is ten times more deadly. Especially if created in large volume."

"Again, I repeat, Serah Hawke. A courtesy – you will want to hunt the thief."

Lise swore softly, looking at Fenris, who nodded. "Javaris."

She turned back to the Arishok and bowed again. "Thank you, Arishok. If you will excuse me, I will take your excellent advice and attempt to curb this disaster before it becomes a catastrophe." The massive qunari leader merely nodded, watching them leave with impassive eyes.

* * *

><p><strong>gaatlok: <strong>a qunari explosive powder.

**saar-qamek:** a qunari gas, used to wipe the minds of those who do not convert to the Qun.

_As always, the characters belong to Bioware, I just play with them._


	9. Hail, the Conquering Hero

_Action and fluff in equal measure, I hope. I also suck at writing fight scenes, which is why you get a lot more talking in this story. Plus, Varric is awesome. Reviews are welcome! Also, thank you for all of the favourites and watchlists! Even if I wasn't writing for the sheer joy of the story - which I am - it really gives me an incentive._

* * *

><p><em>Ch. 9, in which the Arishok - and Varric - are right. Sort of.<em>

Lise, Sebastian, and Fenris gathered a little way from the compound gates and Lise peered into the shadows that had swallowed Orsino less than a half-hour previously. He must have been watching for them, because he quickly came back into view, still hooded. She caught his eye and nodded.

"Someone has stolen a very dangerous formula for a poison gas from the qunari and the Arishok assures me that I will want to find the culprits – and fast." Orsino winced, and she continued. "Where's the best place to start looking for a seedy dwarven 'merchant'?"

"Darktown." Fenris' reply was matter-of-fact.

"_Bingo_. You still up for this, Sebastian? Orsino?"

The lanky noble nodded. "Of course, Hawke." Orsino just gave her a quiet look and nod, and she smiled at the comfort his presence provided her.

"It's good that you're cloaked and hooded, First Enchanter. Keep your Circle robes hidden as much as possible – our enemies won't expect you. At best – and most likely – you'll disrupt them completely; at worst we will at least not have to worry about Undercity rumours." He merely nodded again, and she looked to Fenris and Sebastian. "Same as always; Fen goes in first and the rest of us provide cover."

With that, they took off for the nearest entrance to Darktown. They only had to deal with a few cutpurses and carta rejects on their way through – most of whom were either discouraged by Fenris' massive two-hander, or if they got too close, one of Hawke's arrows at their throat.

"Heh," Fenris chuckled when the last one had run off. "I suppose we're making a name for ourselves."

Lise shrugged. She wasn't quite sure she wanted Orsino to see this side of her – but it was who she _was_, and she knew that they'd need his help, especially as she didn't dare approach Anders at the moment. She shook her head, trying not to think about anything other than the task at hand. Luckily, the Coterie contact Varric knew was on the other end of the slums from Anders' clinic, so at least she didn't have to worry about _that_.

A gold coin and some choice "negotiations" got them the information that Javaris had recently skipped out on all of his Coterie debts. Another coin assured them that if he was anywhere, it'd be Smuggler's Cut, a treacherous "secret" way out the Undercity that was still occasionally – if rarely – used. "Comes out on the Wounded Coast, just a bit of a way from the back gates."

They managed to get out of the city gates without anyone questioning Orsino; the guards knew Hawke and her gaggle well enough that they just let them pass on sight. A few minutes later, they were perched on the rocks surrounding the exit from Smuggler's Cut, waiting. The wind had picked up and the clouds were scudding across the waning moon, casting strange shadows on the sand.

Lise had just turned her head to ask Orsino a question when she saw movement at the cave mouth out of the corner of her eye. A dwarf stepped out – it was certainly the greasy and pinched merchant they'd had dealings with years ago – and when he saw that there were figures waiting for him he panicked, screaming "Get them!" A dozen or more mercenaries – better than the ones he'd hired the first time they'd met him – came pouring out of the shadows toward the little group.

After that, everything seemed to happen at once. Lise leaped to the top of a little rise nearby, dragging Orsino out of the path of a large man with a greataxe, and within seconds the mage had turned him into stone. She and he stood back to back and they fell into a pattern; he would freeze an enemy and then she would shatter him with an arrow, or he'd light her arrows as they left her bow, causing much conflagration and screaming. His massive fireballs didn't hurt, either. She found herself realizing that perhaps he wouldn't mind her relentless side, as he seemed to have one as well.

Sebastian stood on a rock across the path, raining more arrows down upon the badly-organized mercs, giving some very un-Chantry-like battle cries. Fenris swept through the ranks, slicing open throats and cleaving helms in twain, and in very little time it was finished – all of the mercenaries lay dead, and Javaris was cowering in fear. Hawke realized with a sickening grimace that he'd soiled himself, and she felt a wave of disgust roll over her.

"_Calm_ yourself, Javaris. You're not dead yet."

"By my sodding _ancestors_, human. I should have known she'd send you."

Lise blinked. "She? I'm here to tell you not to make the formula."

Javaris threw up his hands. "Wait, you're tracking for the bloody qunari? I should have known – that bitch played me!"

"Woah, woah. I don't know what this is about, but you'd better start making sense, dwarf." As she spoke, Fenris moved forward, drawing his blade, and the dwarf skittered away. He hadn't forgotten the elf's offer to the Arishok to kill him for his "impertinence."

"All right, all right! All I know is this crazy elven lunatic stole the formula, then told me she'd make sure everyone thinks it was _me_. I think she's in Lowtown, now, setting out barrels of the stuff."

Lise turned; having gotten the information she needed, she really wanted nothing else to do with Javaris. "I'd suggest you find a new line of work. _Elsewhere_."

"You're not telling me twice. I think I'll start by selling some boots." He started to strip the merc bodies, mumbling insults about "bloody dog-lord upstart bastards."

She ignored him, looking at her group. "You heard him. Back to Lowtown, on the double. And pray to the Maker that she hasn't finished yet!"

* * *

><p>Fenris used the battered crowbar to ratchet shut the last of the barrels, and already the oily, poisonous fog in the alley was much lighter. Hawke's stomach still turned, though, and she could see that Orsino was looking green. Sebastian had already gotten sick behind some crates; only Fenris looked unfazed, and she wondered yet again just what kind of resistance his tattoos <em>gave<em> him.

She looked at the devastation around and shook her head. It was senseless. Over a dozen fighters had swarmed them, all crazed from the gas and possibly already mad with fanaticism. As they were fighting through to the last stockpile of poison, an elf had faced them, materializing from the haze, screaming obscenities towards the qunari, the nobles, and in fact anyone who wasn't an elf. It had taken but a moment to finish her and her cohorts off, but the inanity of her ravings still stayed in Lise's mind. She had never understood fanatics, no matter the cause.

At that moment, one of the slum doors nearby burst open and a woman stumbled out, holding a baby in her hands. Both were choking, although the rapidly clearing air in the alley – thanks to the strong wind – seemed to calm them somewhat. Hawke swore.

"There are still _people_ in these houses! Hurry, we have to get them out!" She started towards the nearest hovel but Orsino held her back for a moment.

"I will set up over there-" he pointed towards an upraised stone wall and platform with scaffolding "-if you'll bring the injured to me." She nodded to him, gratefully, and rushed off with Sebastian and Fenris to start tearing open doors and pulling people out.

The guards started to trickle in, and when they saw what Hawke was doing, joined in with a will. After about thirty minutes, she heard Aveline in the background, shouting orders, and when she'd taken the fifteenth or twentieth person back to Orsino, he stood up and took her arm. She blinked at him.

"You're bleeding, Hawke! And you're almost dead on your feet. You have to let the guards take over." He pointed to Sebastian, who was already asleep in a corner, and Fenris, who'd just sat down with a Chantry sister to have his arm bandaged - _Wait, when did the Chantry get here_? she thought, hazily. She nodded, clumsily, then looked down and saw that she did, indeed, have a deep gash just under one knee and another on her arm.

"You don't look too great yourself, Orsino." She smiled, weakly. It was true; the First Enchanter was swaying slightly, and there were dark circles under his eyes. "All right. I'll let them take over if you let the sisters handle the healing."

He nodded. "As long as you let me see to your wounds, first." They sat down together a little ways off and he was preparing to touch her leg with a spell when she held out a hand.

"No magic. You're almost drained – I can tell. None of my injuries are dangerous, so I'll do quite well if you'll just clean and bandage them." _Not to mention that I'm really not ready for that breathless feeling again._

Orsino gave her a long look, and then nodded again. "Agreed, if you'll promise to let me check them again tomorrow. If they're at all infected, I will heal them then." She nodded, and he carefully wrung out a clean cloth. She gritted her teeth while he cleaned out the cuts, then bound them tightly. "Make sure that you, your mother, or Bodahn re-wrap those once you're out of your armour."

Lise sat up, flexing her arm. It hurt, but not too badly, and her archery wouldn't be affected once it healed. She turned to him, giving him another weary smile. "Thank you, Orsino."

"I'm not done, Hawke." He reached out and gently touched her face, and she winced. She'd forgotten that the ringleader had landed a good blow to her face with a wrapped fist; she'd have a lovely black eye, and as she wrinkled her brow she could feel it sting. He leaned in, his face close to hers as he cleaned out the cut. She closed her eyes, trying very hard not to notice how, even after their exertions, he smelled pleasantly like sunshine and spice. So _much for avoiding that breathless feeling_.

"Hawke?" She opened her eyes and jerked away when she saw his moss-green eyes so close to her own. Orsino sat back on his knees, quickly, and she apologized.

"Sorry. I think I'd almost fallen asleep."

He smiled. "Don't worry about it, my dear." He paused, then spoke quietly. "I have to thank you for tonight."

She tilted her head. "You do? For dragging you into several fights that almost got us killed?"

The mage snorted. "Almost killed? Hardly, Hawke. We did a lot of good tonight, and to be honest, I rarely get the chance to make any kind of difference like this." He turned, looking across the alley, at the guards helping people back to their homes and cleaning up the bodies and barrels. He turned back to her, and smiled again. "I see why they follow you, my friend. You're a remarkable person, and a born leader."

She blushed. "That's not really true, you-"

Orsino silenced her with an upheld hand. "You know I'm right." He stood carefully, wincing a bit, and held out a hand to help her up as well. She took it, and walked over to wake Sebastian.

* * *

><p>Hawke barely had time to think about anything other than bath and bed once she'd gotten home; she fell asleep twice in the tub. But the next morning when she awoke – rather later than usual – she made her way into the study and sat with a cup of tea and her thoughts, staring into the fire.<p>

"Why him?" was her first thought, and "Do you really need to ask?" was her second. She sighed, leaning back and closing her eyes. She'd spent most evenings over the last few months with the First Enchanter, and hadn't had the slightest idea at the time that she was falling in love with him. Now that she was thinking back on it, of course, it was obvious.

"Hindsight's perfect, eh?" she murmured to herself, groaning. And of course, she'd apparently been obvious enough that most of her friends had realized. What was it that Fenris had said? "I can tell you care for him." _That_ was an understatement, and she wondered now if he'd meant it to be.

Meanwhile, _was she crazy_? Apparently so. It wasn't _enough_ to fall in love with an elf. Who was probably double her age. No, she had to fall in love with a mage. "_The First Enchanter of the bloody Circle_," isn't that how Anders had put it? Lise groaned again. What was she going to do?

She sighed, and started to pace the study, but her injured leg quickly put a stop to that. Sitting back down on the divan, she shrugged, mentally. She'd do what she always did – she'd persevere. He obviously hadn't noticed, or didn't care, or a little of both. She hoped it was the first, although if he ever did figure it out she could only pray for the second. There was no question in her mind that he'd ever feel the same way about her, or even if he did – which he _wouldn't_ – there was no future for such a relationship.

Meanwhile, he still enjoyed her company, so she'd continue to spend her time with him and eventually, when nothing happened, her friends would forget about it or let it go. A soft smile drifted onto her face as she thought about their evenings together – games in front of the fireplace, arch smiles, green eyes, companionable discussions and even comfortable silences. And those mage robes, which for some reason, fascinated her. He was _so_ intelligent, without being too dry and scholarly, and had just the right level of wit – she didn't have to fend him off like she did Varric, but she also could talk theory with him, unlike with Isabela. She sighed again and _oh Maker, help me_. She shook her head quickly. _I'm going insane_.

Just then someone rang the doorbell and she choked on her tea when she heard Orsino's voice. Luckily, it had grown cold while she pondered – so she didn't scald herself – and she'd finished coughing by the time he walked through the study door.

She flushed a very becoming crimson, nodding to him. _Maker_, you couldn't even tell he'd been out all night; the circles were gone from his eyes and his robes – _hmm. Red and gold this time instead of black_ – were as immaculate as ever.

He smiled down at her, sitting on the divan. Lise forced herself to not scoot away – she'd need to act like nothing had changed. And really, nothing should.

"I can't stay long, Hawke, but I wanted to check up on you and make sure you're doing all right. May I see your leg?"

She nodded again, not trusting her voice quite yet, and he leaned over to examine her calf. He then pulled up her sleeve, poked at her arm, and examined the cut over her eye. "They're healing well," he said, sighing a little in what she realized was relief.

She cleared her throat. "Did Meredith give you hell for being out all night?"

Orsino shook his head, laughing a little. "She's said nothing, actually. Which, in Meredith-speak, is her tacit, unspoken way of admitting that perhaps you did something right. Apparently, being out there with the guards and Chantry-folk, helping the 'people of Kirkwall' keeps me off her blood-mage list for a while yet."

Lise smiled. "Well, we'll have to remember that. If you can do good _and_ appease Meredith, all the better. Right?"

He nodded. "Anything to allow me to continue to come to Hightown on a regular basis." He stood, and his smile down at her made her heart skip a little. "I'm sorry I have to go now – there is an important set of experiments I have to see to today, and there's a good chance they'll go on all night as well. But I hope to see you in the next day or two?"

She nodded, biting her lower lip. "Of course. And in the next few days I'm going to give out invitations to my Midwinter party. I'd like to invite you and Cullen, once I get it organized with mother."

He gave a delighted smile. "I would love that, Hawke. Thank you. Just let me know... and if you invite the Knight-Captain, too, there's a good chance Meredith won't say anything about the both of us attending."

Grinning, she nodded. "That was my hope. Have a good day, Orsino. I'll see you soon."

* * *

><p>Varric came to visit after lunch, and found Hawke still in the study, her leg propped up on a chair – Leandra had lectured her daughter heartily when she found her slumped in front of the fire and forbade her from going out for at least two days. He sauntered in, a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a bottle of ale in the other.<p>

"Do you need something, Varric?" She looked at him over the edge of the book she was reading.

He whistled. "My, but that's a gorgeous shiner, Beautiful."

"Shut up, Varric."

He raised an eyebrow, sitting down on the divan. Bodahn bustled in with a vase for the flowers, then set them on her desk. "I came to visit the invalid – you know that half of the city is talking about your mad heroics, right?"

She shrugged. "It had to be done. I had both Dumar _and_ the Arishok breathing down my neck on this one."

"Wish I'd been there. It must have been a hell of a story."

"I'll tell it to you, sometime. Or Fen or Sebastian can. Sebastian tells a pretty good story, you know. And don't worry, next time I'll try to take you – I just didn't have a lot of warning on this one."

The dwarf laughed. "True enough." He gave her a sidelong look, watching closely. "Rumour also has it that the First Enchanter was out there with you, too."

She froze, then shrugged carefully. "He was visiting when I got Dumar's letter and offered to help. It's not like I had time to get Anders if I didn't have time to get _you_, and I'm not really sure I'm ready for that kettle of fish right now anyhow."

Varric sat back, satisfied. "You figured it out, didn't you?"

Lise would have loved to play dumb, but she knew better. He'd sniff it out in a heartbeat, then give her _more_ hell for lying about it. "Yeah."

"You're crazy, Hawke."

"I know, Varric. Don't remind me." She rolled her eyes. "But so says the dwarf with a fetish for his crossbow."

"_Hey_, now. Low blow. Don't bring Bianca into this – don't listen to her, sweetheart." He called this last part out in a louder voice, as he'd left his weapon in the foyer. A few seconds later, Bodahn looked in.

"Did you need something, Serah?"

Lise and Varric both snorted and in laughter and she shook her head. "No, Bodahn, don't worry about it. Although – I'd love a cup of tea, if you wouldn't mind?"

"Right away, messere." When he left, Varric turned back to Lise.

"So, what do you want to know first?"

"Pardon?" She turned and blinked at him.

"About Robes." When she looked at him blankly, he sighed. "_The First Enchanter_. You want the gossip, right?"

Lise blushed. "Is there an awful lot of gossip about him?" Then, she did a double-take. "_Robes_? Maker, you give everyone a nickname, don't you?"

He grinned. "Except for Aveline, and that's just because she scares the piss out of me." He then shook his head. "No, there isn't a lot of gossip about him. Which is a bit of a shame, but I work with what I'm given."

"_Varric_. No starting rumours about Orsino."

"Madam, you wound me."

"I'm _serious_. I'll kill you."

He laughed again. "Don't worry, Beautiful. Believe it or not, I do know when discretion is the better part of valour. But as it seems you don't want to know anything…"

"_VARRIC._"

"All right, all right. You're too much fun to tease, Hawke. Let's see…" he leaned back, tapping his fingertips together. "He's a little over forty – no more than forty-two. Birthday is in early August – the eighth. Favourite colour is red. Prefers Orlesian wines-"

She nodded, murmuring, "_La Coeur de Clair de Lune_," and Varric raised an eyebrow.

"Indeed. Doesn't smoke, never gets into trouble except with the Knight-Commander, and who _doesn't_? No hints of any kind of romance or scandal. Looks like you picked a tame one after all, Hawke."

She shook her head, laughing. "Quiet doesn't necessarily mean tame, Varric. Do you really think he'd stay First Enchanter if he was busy seducing apprentices all over the place?"

He shrugged. "It'd make for better stories. Well, that's really all I know. Only other rumours I've heard are the ones concerning the fact that he seems to be spending every second of his spare time in Hightown with an upstart noble by the name of Hawke, but I think you've heard those." He smirked.

The upstart noble flushed. "Hey, Varric… I'd appreciate it if you didn't talk about my stupidity to the others." When he snorted, she shook her head. "I know it's obvious, but I still don't want it to become taproom gossip. I especially don't want Anders to hear about it. It's bad enough that it's madness and there's no _possible_ way anything could come of it."

He nodded, soberly. "I can do that. I just really wish you'd picked someone else, Hawke. Robes is nice enough, but he'll just be heartbreak for you." She sighed.

"I wish you'd call him something other than 'Robes'. Every time you do that I think about his mage robes, and..." she blushed again, coughing embarrassedly.

Varric gave her a wicked grin. "That's the point, Beautiful."

* * *

><p><em>La Coeur de Clair de Lune<em> - _my French is ragged, but it's my attempt at "The Heart of Moonlight", Orsino and Hawke's favourite Orlesian wine._

_As always, the characters belong to Bioware, I just play with them._


	10. Midwinter Revelry

_Fluff, fluffy fluff, and more fluff. But it's Midwinter, what do you expect? I had so much fun writing this, so it's probably the longest chapter yet. _

_The songs Lady Hawke plays are both Loreena McKennitt tunes; the first, with vocals, is called "Never-Ending Road (Amrhán Duit)" and the second one that Izzy dances to is "Kecharitomene". Both are found on the Ancient Muse album and I highly recommend a listen._

* * *

><p><em>Ch. 10, in which the Hawke family and friends share a happy day. Warning: kittens ahead.<em>

Midwinter day dawned bright and clear, a fact which made Lise smile when she opened the door. She found Fenris's traditional Midwinter gift to her – a stack of red cedar firewood wound with an exotic vine – upon the steps. He had never exactly admitted to being the one who left them each winter, but the first year they'd known each other he'd told her of a custom from Tevinter where each household would burn vine-wrapped cedar logs at Midwinter to ensure luck and prosperity for the coming year. When she'd found a stack outside Gamlen's house the next week, she'd made sure it was in the fireplace when her friends assembled for the meal. She found that she liked the smell of the vine when it burned – a spiciness which, when blended with the crisp cedar, was quite pleasant. Fenris had taken one sniff when he entered, looked to the fireplace, then nodded at her. She'd smiled, and in her eyes, that was enough; words sometimes got in the way between friends. There had been a similar stack at her door every year since.

This year, she was excited for her first Midwinter in the Amell – now Hawke – estate. She'd been up since before dawn watching the weather, but she needn't have worried. Hightown lay wrapped in a blanket of white from the day prior, but the sky was a brilliant blue and there was no scent of snow on the wind.

Everything had gone perfectly – she'd sent invitations to Cullen and Orsino, making sure to mention in each that if she had not been certain that Knight-Commander Meredith would have more pressing duties she would have invited her, but that she would _never_ presume. Cullen sent back word that Meredith thanked Serah Hawke for her kind thoughts, but would not have the time.

This had the downside, however, of causing another fight between her and Anders. Which was good, because it showed that things were back to normal with them, but she still winced with each harsh word they spoke. When she received the responses, she'd gone to warn both him and Merrill that Orsino and Cullen would be there, and while Merrill had been quite understanding – never one to care whether or not she had to hide her magic – Anders had flown off the handle. He'd screamed at her, in his clinic, and she'd screamed back, finally cutting him off with "Then you're no longer invited!" as she'd slammed the door. Now she sighed, but tried not to let it ruin her day.

It was Sebastian's first year, too – and the fact that "Prince Vael" was attending her "Midwinter Revel" upgraded it from "secluded" to "select" in the eyes of her neighbours, and many of them sighed in vain for invitations. But Lise would not hear of it, no matter how much she knew it would have been more appropriate to hold a grand fête. This was her time, with her family and her friends who were as close _as_ family.

Orana had come over quite early, and she, Leandra, Lise, and Merrill spent the morning cooking and baking until the estate smelled, as Merrill put it, "like someone had taken all the tastiest foods and put them together into one enormous pie." After lunch, when Merrill and Orana had gone home to dress for the party, Lise slipped into the study to gloat over her gifts to her friends – her favourite part of the year.

For Merrill, there was a delicately carved sylvanwood halla with branching horns, looking as if it'd be off apace the moment you set it down. She'd found an ornate Rivaini ship-in-a-bottle for Isabela, and while digging through the market stalls she'd been pleasantly surprised to find Varric's Tethras signet ring. She remembered him saying that his brother had pawned it to pay for the expedition, and she could tell he regretted it more than he'd admit.

For Fenris, who had made leaps and bounds in his reading, she'd bought the most extravagant and colourful copy of The Book of Shartan that she could find; for someone so monochromatic, Fenris had an unexpected love for bright and vibrant objects – not that he'd admit it, of course. She'd had Wesley's sword and shield repaired and mounted for Aveline, and in the same vein, she'd found an elegant, if damaged, longbow when they'd tracked the mercs who'd killed Sebastian's family. The Vael crest was etched in silver on the side, so she'd had it repaired and it lay, wrapped in silk, upon the table.

The item that had taken her the longest to acquire was her gift for her mother. She'd spent long hours consulting with Orsino – as someone who appreciated art – and Varric, who knew everyone in Hightown, to find someone who could paint a portrait from half-memories and descriptions. The result was a small but elegant portrait of Lise, flanked by Carver and Bethany. Of the group, Aveline was the only one who'd met Hawke's brother, and she said that the likeness was striking – and everyone agreed that Bethany looked exact.

For Bodhan, Sandal, and Orana there were various and sundry items she knew they'd enjoy – such as a new lute for Orana, who played beautifully. She'd been able to "acquire" a bottle of wine for Cullen from Isabela; no one knew the vintage or recipe but it was said that its ethereal flavour came from being stored in casks bound with lyrium.

Turning from the table, she saw her gift for Anders wrapped and placed in a secluded corner, and she frowned. She wasn't sure if he'd even come so that she _could_ give it to him, but that might be just as well. She could not easily hand it to him in front of Cullen, though she knew Orsino would understand. It was a tall, elegantly gilded staff, with the figure of a winged woman at the top; it had been her father's, and as Bethy could no longer use it in the Wardens there was no one else to carry it. The only other person she'd consider giving it to was Orsino, but as her father had been an apostate who spent his life keeping himself and his daughter out of the Circle, she felt that Anders was the only one who deserved to carry it. Whether or not she agreed with his methods, Anders certainly embodied her father's ideals.

Instead, for Orsino, she chose a different gift, though it was just as special to her. She'd spent ages debating – some items seemed too cold, yet others were too personal. Finally, she remembered a conversation they'd had one night over books; he'd asked how Bethany had learned to control her magic so well, and she told him about their father's methods of teaching. That, in turn, lead to a discussion on magical theory, and he'd mentioned a book he'd read when he was an apprentice that he had always wanted to find again, with no luck.

She knew she had a copy - her father had taught Bethy with it, and Lise had learned all she knew about magic from its leaves - but she'd been loath to mention it as it was one of the few things she still had that had been his. Later, she realized that much like the staff, no one would use it if she did not pass it along, and she had other things with which to remember Malcolm Hawke. Now, on Midwinter's Day, she only had one more touch remaining and so she picked up her quill and on the inside flyleaf wrote, _"To Orsino, my dear friend, with hopes that we will read together often. With affection, Lise."_ The quill lingered for a moment, but she shook her head and set it in the inkwell, fondly running a finger along the book's spine. Then, after a moment of reverie, she shook her head again – today was _not _the day to moon.

Coming out of the study, she found that Orana had returned to help her and her mother dress, and the rest of the afternoon was spent in a whirl of silks and hairpins and laughter. Fenris was the next to arrive, and Lise smiled to herself at the familiar way in which Orana pulled him aside to straighten his collar – for indeed, Fenris had put away his leathers and was wearing a plain black shirt and black pants, which suited him quite well.

Most of the rest of her friends arrived soon after, except for Sebastian – whom she expected to be late – and Cullen and Orsino, which made her edgy no matter how hard she tried to hide it. There was enough to do, however, between serving hot ciders and tea and trading gifts that she was kept quite busy, for all of her friends loved their presents. Especially her mother, who cried openly when presented with the portrait. There were many quiet smiles and hugs – so many of the gifts she gave this year were personal – and there was a good hour in which everyone showed off their treasures amidst discussions, drinks, and laughter. Soon, Sebastian joined them, and he presented Lise with a bottle of very old and very expensive Starkhaven scotch.

"You look lovely, Mistress Hawke."

Lise smiled, happily. "Thank you, Sebastian." She then had the irrelevant thought "_I hope Orsino thinks the same"_ and quashed it, blushing, because it was ridiculous.

She saw Varric chuckle at the blush, and rolled her eyes. She just prayed that he didn't address Orsino as "Robes" tonight - she'd die of mortification. He and the First Enchanter hadn't met in the two weeks following her admission after the qunari episode, and although she was _relatively _sure the dwarf wouldn't try to embarrass her, she was still nervous.

She'd received gifts from nearly everyone; tall, sexy leather boots - with a wink - from Isabela. A new book from Varric, written by himself and more than likely about her "daring escapades". A tapestry from Aveline. Then, she noticed that Merrill was missing at the same time that her mabari, Rufus, began to bay. As everyone looked towards the foyer, a small kitten with fawn-tipped cream fur, green eyes and a huge matching green bow around its neck came running out of the kitchen – with the elven mage in hot pursuit, carrying a pillow. "Pouncy! Come back here and get on your bed!"

The kitten ignored Merrill, Rufus, and the roars of laughter, made a beeline for Hawke – who was wearing her mother's gift, a lovely crimson and copper silk gown – and stopped at her feet, mewling up at her. Cooing, she picked up the tiny ball of fluff, and it immediately bumped its head against her chin, purring.

"Hold on, there's a tag on the – hold still, little one! - oops, here it is." Lise managed to calm the squirming kitten long enough to read the card tied to the ribbon.

"_I'm sorry. I hope you have a happy Midwinter, and I hope that Pouncy here will convince you to forgive me at some point. - Anders._

_P.S. – Merrill helped pick him out."_

Lise buried her face in the kitten's fur, causing him to purr even more loudly, and then she looked up at Merrill, nodding with a smile as she hugged her tightly. "Thank you so much, Merrill. And if you see Anders, tell him that 'Pouncy succeeded.'" Everyone laughed again, loudly enough that Lise's first realization that their last guests had arrived was when Orana opened the front door and Ser Cullen entered.

She found her pulse quickening as she moved forward to greet him, trying not to crane her neck to look at Orsino. Bodahn took the visitors' wraps, and she held out a hand in greeting to the templar. "Ser Cullen, First Enchanter. I'm so glad you could make it."

* * *

><p>A few minutes before, Orsino and Cullen had been making small talk as they climbed the steps into Hightown from the docks. The mage found himself growing nervous – he'd been to Hawke's estate many times, but never for a formal gathering, and he'd never spent a great deal of time with all of her friends at once. It wasn't that he didn't want to – but he knew that Anders, especially, did not approve of him and he badly wanted everything to go well tonight. Not for any particular reason, of course. He just knew that Hawke had been planning this for a while.<p>

When they arrived at the manor, he stood back and let the Knight-Captain knock. A minute passed, and then the door opened and a flood of warmth, spice, and laughter enveloped him. Smiling, he stepped into the foyer, handing Bodahn his wraps, and looked up to see Hawke walking towards them.

If anyone were to ask him later, he could pinpoint that as the exact moment he finally admitted that he was in love with her. He'd grown fond of their time together, but knowing their difference in age and status, he'd been careful to keep himself a little distant. And even had they been as close in age as she and Anders, it was impossible for a mage of the Circle to love anyone.

Now, however, he realized that it had all been for nothing – he'd fallen for her no matter how hard he'd tried to be cautious. It didn't help that tonight, she was a vision. She wore a copper silk gown, cut in such a way that it looked as if she were standing in a cascade of a thousand petals, and the brilliant crimson bodice and sash matched the garnets at her throat, wrists, and ears. The gems brought out the reddest hues of her auburn hair, which had been coiled and pinned up with a pair of long, ebony sticks, from which dangled a multitude of copper leaves and tiny garnet flowers. He could also see the twisting strands of her tattoo tracing the back of her neck. Her cheeks and eyes glowed with happiness and warmth, and she cuddled a tiny fluffball of a kitten under her chin.

She carefully sat the kitten down on a pillow nearby – it mewed at her but then started batting at the laces of her new boots – and after greeting Cullen, she walked towards him with hands outstretched. "Orsino, I'm so glad you came."

It was all he could do to murmur, "Thank you for inviting me, my dear," and take her hands – his own were so cold in comparison – to bow over. She seemed not to notice his nerves, however, and kept one of his hands as she turned to the assembled group.

"These are the last of our revellers – let us shut the door to the cold and keep the day with warmth, wine, and joy!" Everyone cheered and Lady Leandra led the way into the dining hall, where the feast awaited them.

Lise kept Cullen for a moment, handing him the bottle of wine. He bowed, looking surprised. "Thank you, Serah, but forgive me – I am a poor guest, for I brought no gift in return."

She shook her head and smiled at him, as Orsino noticed – and yet tried not to – how the colour in her cheeks illuminated her dimples. "Gifts are not given for a return, Ser Cullen. I just hope you enjoy it." Cullen bowed again, and then followed the rest of the group into the dining room, leaving her and Orsino.

He raised an eyebrow as she reached for the wrapped book, handing it to him – and he found himself regretting that she'd let go of his hand so that he could open it. When he saw the title, he was floored. "How did you – Hawke?"

She covered her mouth, hiding a happy smile. "It was father's, actually." He began to open the cover, but she moved her hand over his, looking self-conscious for a moment. "Let's join the others, shall we?"

Orsino nodded in acquiescence, dampening his curiosity, and she led him into the dining room where everyone was just sitting down. He found himself seated next to Lise, with Varric on his other side and Leandra across the table. She gave him a wide smile. "I'm so glad you could join us, First Enchanter."

He nodded, taking a deep breath. "I was honoured to receive your invitation, Lady Leandra." She smiled at him again, and turned towards Sebastian, and Orsino took the opportunity to peer into the book in his lap.

The inscription made him flush and smile, but it also steadied him. "My dear friend," he murmured. He closed his eyes, nodding to himself. Of course, Hawke thought of him as a friend – that she considered him dear was more than he'd hoped. There could not be anything between them, and if he did not control his emotions someone would suspect something. Then Knight-Commander Meredith would have him up for sedition, and that could cost Hawke a lot more than he was willing – and moreover, it might keep them from being able to meet.

* * *

><p>The meal passed in pleasant merriment with everyone eating and drinking far more than they should, with jokes and laughter – even Cullen unbent enough to share tales of the Chantry with Sebastian and Merrill.<p>

Orsino allowed himself to get caught up in the hubbub, his new-found feelings settling down so that by the end of the meal, he was able to smile and joke with Hawke like usual. It wasn't until dessert had finished and his hand bumped the box in his pocket that he realized that he hadn't yet given her his gift. He flushed, then frowned awkwardly. It was just a lovely trinket, but he now felt self-conscious and hoped that no one would read anything into it. He was just pulling it out when she stood, tapping her knife on the edge of her wineglass to call everyone's attention. Quickly, he slipped the box back and looked up.

"My dearest, closest friends – I am so glad you could all come today and share this special day. We all deserve a warm moment of peace in the midst of everything that's been happening.-"

"Hear, hear!" Isabela called. Varric shushed her as Lise laughed.

"Indeed. I just want to say that you are all dear to me and I would not be here if not for every one of you." She raised her glass. "To those beside us, hurrah!"

"Hurrah!" Everyone took a drink, joining her in the Ferelden toast.

"To those behind us, hurrah!"

"Hurrah!"

"And last but not least – to those ahead of us – hurrah!"

She drained her glass, then looked around the table, then down at Orsino, smiling. "To new friends, old friends, and someone fill my glass to stop me talking!"

Everyone laughed and several hands helped her back into her seat, while Isabela and Sebastian filled her glass from two different directions. Bodahn and Sandal cleared the table – Fenris had Orana seated beside him and wouldn't let her get up and help, which was probably distressing her less than usual due to the fact that he also had his arm around her shoulders.

When everything was cleared away, Lise stood again with her glass. "I propose that we retire to the drawing room for music, if everyone is amenable?"

There was silence for barely a second but it was just long enough for everyone to hear "MEW!" as Pouncy finally managed to scramble onto the tablecloth. The following riot of laughter frightened the kitten, who snatched up a piece of chicken far bigger than himself and disappeared back over the edge and under Lise's chair.

Orsino let the others push on ahead and then picked a chair towards the side of the room as everyone settled down. He could see the empty space where Hawke would play in front of the fireplace, with its heavy scent of spice and cedar, but he could also stay circumspect as most chairs were turned away from him. The balcony was to his back, but the doors were muffled, ceiling to floor, with heavy brocade curtains.

Lise and Orana walked to the front of the room – the latter blushing furiously, with Lise reassuring her that really, she'd be wonderful – and Orana sat down at the harp while Lise picked up her violin. She tuned it for a moment, then stepped forward and addressed the group in a stage voice.

"Thirty years ago, a handsome rogue named Malcolm Hawke stole the heart of Kirkwall beauty Leandra Amell, who was promised to the Comte de Launcet. Malcolm was ecstatic – the lady swore she loved him and promised him she would be his wife as soon as they could manage." Lise looked around the room, a twinkle in her eye. She knew that Varric was taking notes as fast as he could scribble; he knew part of her family's story, but not all.

"Such happiness is a challenge to fate, however. There were those who hunted Malcolm, and the time for him to flee came much sooner than they expected. He could not leave without his love – could not live without her – but how was he to let her know?"

Lise hummed softly, drawing the first few soft notes from her violin. "As luck would have it – and everyone knows a handsome rogue makes his own luck – the Amells were hosting a Midwinter Masque. He slipped in, disguised along with everyone else, and at some point managed to get a note into the lady's hand."

"What did it say?" Varric called.

"I'll tell you what it said," Lise said, still playing quietly. "'My love,' It said. 'I must leave tonight at midnight, but I cannot go without you. Will you go away with me?' And the lady was distraught. She thought of her family, of her brother and parents – but then she thought of her love and realized that she could never let him go away without her. However, she hadn't seen the mask he wore – so how was she to give him her answer?"

The violin kept its lilting song as Orsino leaned in, interested. He'd never heard the story of how her parents met, though he'd heard – vaguely – of the scandal that had occurred before he'd arrived in Kirkwall.

After a moment, Hawke continued. "The evening passed and Leandra grew more and more worried as the clock struck closer to twelve. As luck would have it – and everyone knows a beautiful woman makes her own luck – when the bells chimed eleven-thirty, her mother asked her to play for those assembled. And that, my friends, is how she gave her answer."

Dropping the singsong tone she'd taken up as she told her tale, Lise turned to her mother with a tender smile. "That was the story of how my father won my mother's heart, and this is the anniversary of the song that was her answer. I'd like to play it for you all, and for her, in his memory." Leandra smiled back with tears in her eyes and nodded to her daughter.

Hawke turned to Orana and the two began to play a lovely, lilting duet of of harp and violin. Then, Lise started to sing.

"_The road now leads onward  
><em>_as far as can be,  
><em>_winding lanes  
><em>_and hedgerows in threes.  
><em>_By purple mountains  
><em>_and 'round every bend,  
><em>_all roads lead to you -  
><em>_there's no journey's end.  
><em>_Deep in the winter  
><em>_amidst falling snow;  
><em>_high in the air,  
><em>_the bells, they all toll.  
><em>_Now, all around me,  
><em>_I feel you still here.  
><em>_Such is the journey -  
><em>_no mystery to fear.  
><em>_Here is my heart and I give it to you -  
><em>_take me with you, across this land.  
><em>_These are my dreams, so simple and few;  
><em>_dreams we hold in the palms of our hands.  
><em>_The road now leads onward,  
><em>_I know not where;  
><em>_I feel in my heart  
><em>_that you will be there.  
><em>_Whenever a storm comes,  
><em>_whatever our fears  
><em>_the journey goes on  
><em>_as your love ever nears."_

Orsino could not take his eyes away from her. He knew she was musical – she'd picked up the violin once or twice during his visits – but never before had he heard her sing. Her voice was lovely, and the emotion carried in the song – especially with its message – made him wish a great many things that he knew could never be. He took a deep breath and carefully slid back in his chair, resting his forehead in his hand.

He missed her eyes flickering in his direction at the end of the song.

* * *

><p>The applause afterwards was riotous and she bowed, then made Orana get up and bow, too. As the group called out for more, Lise beckoned to Isabela. "You're dressed for dancing, my dear. Would you like to?"<p>

"I won't make you ask twice!" Izzy laughed, jumping up. Whereas she usually wore her habitual white pirate tunic, leather boots, and not much more, this time she'd dressed up. She was wearing an authentic – if a bit short – Rivaini gypsy outfit, with a pale blue blouse with belled sleeves, a pleated black skirt, and so much golden jewelry that she sparkled from head to toe. Orana took a seat next to Fenris, who kissed her cheek, and then Varric got up. "I know this one!" He took up the lute sitting beside the fire and tuned it while the two women talked in low tones.

What followed was a complete change from the first song. Instead of a mournful melody, Hawke coaxed out a rollicking tune from Rivain that had everyone on the edge of their seats, tapping their feet. Isabela took her place in the centre of the group, and proceeded to dance – not her normal bawdy displays from the Hanged Man, but instead a spirited, traditional gypsy dance, with shimmying hips and pounding feet. The gold coins of her jewelry chimed in time with the song, and by the end everyone was clapping along.

When that had finished, everyone surrounded her, clapping her on the back, offering wine and compliments, which was perfectly fine for Lise. She'd seen Orsino get up in the middle of the piece and slip behind the curtains at his back – she heard the tell-tale creak of the balcony door and found herself at a loss as to what had disturbed him. Was it too warm? Were they too loud?

She carefully laid her violin down while everyone else was busy with Isabela, then slipped behind the curtains as well. She opened the door, quietly avoiding the creak, and stepped out to join him. He was looking up at the stars, lost in his own thoughts, and it struck her again how very handsome he was this evening, in a dark green-and-gold robe. Banishing the thoughts that brought to mind – _damn you, Varric –_ she cleared her throat. "Orsino?"

He jumped, a bit startled, and looked at her with a flush on his cheeks, though she could barely see it in the moonlight. "Lise!"

She smiled. "That's the first time you've ever called me that, you know."

Orsino flushed harder. "I beg your pardon, Hawke-"

Lise held up a hand. "No, please. I wish more of my friends used that name."

He nodded slowly. "Did I disturb anyone? I meant to be quiet, as I just needed some air."

She shook her head. "No, I think I was the only one who noticed. Is everything all right?"

The concern in her voice made him smile, and he looked down at her. "Everything is perfect, my dear. Thank you for coming to look for me." A thought struck him, and he reached into his pocket. "I think this is a good time for me to give you my Midwinter's gift – I hadn't the chance, earlier."

He laid the box in her hand and she opened it, then gasped, blushing. "Orsino! You shouldn't have!" Nestled in the centre of the shredded paper lay a carnelian hawk the size of her palm, with outstretched wings and a rose-quartz flower in its talons.

As she picked it up, carefully, he took it from her. "It's a hair clip – I couldn't resist the play on your name. Turn your head?"

She did as he asked and he carefully pinned it to the side of her coiled coif, trying not to notice the single curl that lay upon her neck or the whiteness of her skin where her sleeves fell away from her arms. She smiled up at him when he was done, her cheeks still pink. "Thank you so much."

He took her hands and bowed over them, then looked up at her in a way that made her breath catch. "No, my dear. Thank _you_. This has been a wonderful evening, and I am enjoying myself immensely."

Just then, a breeze whipped up and she shivered, taking the chance to turn away and hide her flustered face. "Shall we rejoin everyone?"

"Please, Lise. After you." He held open the door and the two re-entered the room. No one seemed even to have noticed their absence, and Sebastian had picked up the lute and was singing an old, popular tune from Starkhaven in his deep brogue.

* * *

><p>A hour or so later, Cullen found him alone. "First Enchanter, it's about time for us to go."<p>

He sighed, and nodded. "Of course, Knight-Captain. Let me find our host and give her our farewells." He looked around. He did not see Hawke in the drawing room with everyone else – Fenris and Orana had already left, as had Aveline and Sebastian. Merrill was talking to Rufus and Sandal, and Isabela and Varric were in the kitchen, still drinking.

Cullen went to retrieve their wraps from Bodahn and Orsino poked his head into the study. As expected, Lise was in a chair by the fire, but as he neared he realized that she was asleep. There was a blanket in her lap, and Pouncy was curled up on top of it. He smiled at the sight, a strange contentment welling up in his heart, and he leaned over to pull the blanket a little further up over her arms.

"Shush," he murmured to Pouncy, who'd awoken, mewing sleepily at him; the kitten decided he was no menace and curled back up. Orsino looked down at Lise for a long moment, then leaned over and pressed his lips gently to the top of her head, murmuring, "Good night_, emma sa'lath."_

He turned and left the room, and within a few minutes he and Cullen were walking back to the Gallows, talking quietly about the evening.

* * *

><p>Back at the estate, Anders gently shook Lise awake, chuckling as Pouncy also woke again, and mewed at him. She looked up, and then smiled happily as his face registered. "Anders!"<p>

"Happy Midwinter, Hawke."

"Happy Midwinter! Have you been here long?"

"Long enough." Anders frowned, remembering what he'd seen from the doorway. Now he had even more reason to distrust the First Enchanter.

"Anders? Is something wrong?"

He shook his head, smiling again. "No. I'm just sorry I didn't come earlier."

She got up and went to the corner, picking up the staff. His eyes widened as she handed it to him. "Hawke, no! Isn't this your father's staff?"

Lise smiled. "It was. Now it's yours. Happy Midwinter, Anders."

He looked at her, unsure. "This is too much..."

"It is not. You fight for the same things that father did. But you must promise me one thing, Anders – to always fight fairly, and honourably."

Anders bowed his head, and nodded. "I promise, Hawke."

* * *

><p><em><strong>emma sa'lath<strong> (_EHM-mah sah-lath_): my one love_

_As always, the characters belong to Bioware. I just use them for my own amusement._


	11. Daydreams and Nightmares

_Yes, Anaan Esaam Atashi is a blatant ripoff of Mahjong, without my actually being very familiar with the rules. I figure there had to be some games out there other than chess and card games. More fluff leading to plot._

* * *

><p><em>Ch. 11, in which the heroine is depressed, but the hero requests her aid.<em>

The next morning, there was a knock at Lise's bedroom door just as she was finishing dressing; it was Leandra.

"Good morning, mother." Lise kissed her on the cheek.

"Good morning, my dear. Would you take tea with me this morning? We so rarely get the chance."

Hawke nodded, raising an eyebrow. "Of course." While following Leandra down the stairs, she felt a little uneasy – it was obvious that _something_ was up. The last time her mother had requested her presence so formally was when she'd decided it was time for her daughter to begin to "get to know the neighbours" which had been a fancy way of saying, "Time to join the upper-class, dear." Hawke _still_ attended parties because of it, and she hated every moment.

Joining her mother by the fire in her room, they sat for a while, drinking tea and eating toast, making small talk about the Midwinter party. Just when Lise had decided that it was going to be another occasion for "you're neglecting your noble duties," Leandra cleared her throat.

"Dear, I'm not getting any younger, and you _certainly_ aren't. With Carver gone and Bethany in the Wardens…"

_Maker, she's trying to get me married._ Lise felt a cold little knot settle in her stomach, and carefully steeled her face.

Her mother sighed. "I'd had my eye on a few young men, you know – Seneschal Bran has a son around your age, as do the de Mercins, and there's your delightful friend Sebastian – although he's keeping to his Chantry vows, isn't he?" Lise nodded, not speaking. "But my dear, I was in your place many years ago, and I ended up defying my parents because they tried to marry me off to someone I didn't love. I don't want to make the same mistake. _Is_ there someone else?"

Her daughter blushed, looking down at her lap. She began to pick at the snowy linen napkin, wondering what she was actually supposed to say. _Yes mother, I'm in love with an elven mage whom I can never marry_? Or maybe _Sorry, mother, the family bloodline is going to die out because I will pine for the rest of my life over a man who doesn't love me_? She sighed.

Leandra reached out and took Lise's chin, raising her face so that she could look into her eyes. "It's the First Enchanter, isn't it?"

Lise blushed again, fiercely. _Just how obvious _am _I? "_I don't-"

Her mother shook her head, smiling sadly. "I've been watching you for a while, dear. You realize that I was once in love with a mage, too? You're certainly following in the Amell family footsteps." She sighed. "Are you sure about this? He's the First Enchanter, and already in the Circle… what can ever come of it?"

Hawke's face crumpled. "_Nothing,_ mother, that's just it. There's no way we could ever be together, even if he felt the same way, which he _doesn't_. It's _hopeless_, and I don't know what to do…"

"Oh my poor baby, my dear…" Leandra got up, coming around the table to hug her daughter. Lise finally let go of the tears she'd been holding back for the past few weeks and began to cry while her mother held her tightly, rocking gently and patting her back. "My dearest daughter, so much like your father – just as strong, and just as fragile. He was always a rock, but he cared _so_ much for his family; I remember the day I gave birth to you. The midwife put you into his arms and he cried like a baby."

They stood like that for a while, and once the tears subsided Leandra took a napkin and wiped her daughter's face. "My love, I will not ask you to marry someone while your heart belongs to another, but if you ever change your mind, tell me. I just want you to be happy."

Lise sniffled once or twice and then kissed her mother's cheek. "Thank you, mother. I don't- I don't know. I certainly can't even bear the thought right now." Leandra nodded, and they hugged again, then Lise turned to leave.

Leandra watched her walk away with another shake of her head.

* * *

><p>When Varric sauntered into the study that afternoon, Hawke was sitting at her desk, head cushioned on one crooked arm as she absentmindedly petted Pouncy and stared into the fire. He raised an eyebrow, then coughed to get her attention.<p>

"Why so glum, Beautiful?"

Lise sighed and sat up slowly. "Just one of those days, Varric."

"Oh, come on. You just hosted a very successful party – even had a _prince_ in attendance. Your neighbours would be _beside_ themselves with self-satisfaction if they were in your place. You wowed your audience – that was one hell of a tale, by the way. I could only have done it a little better myself."

She groaned. "Varric, _please_ don't mention my neighbours right now."

"Aha, so it's nobility troubles. What's up?"

Lise put her head back on her arm. "Mother brought up the M-word today."

"Money? Mabari? Maker?"

"Marriage."

He whistled, sitting down by the fire. "Jeeze. What a load, eh? What'd you tell mama Hawke?"

She shrugged, sitting up and then leaning back in her chair, taking a perverse joy in teetering upon its rear legs. "I didn't have to. Apparently, along with the rest of the world, she already had it figured out."

He chuckled. "Don't worry _so_ much, Hawke. She's got a mother's instinct and I'm just good like that. I think the rest of our little group knows you certainly prefer his company, but I'm not so sure anyone else has gone so far as to think you're in love. Most of us probably figure you just get tired of babysitting all the time." She smiled, weakly, and he grinned. "There you go."

Pouncy jumped off the desk, walked towards the dwarf's boot, and sniffed at it. He waved the kitten away. "Shoo."

The kitten did not shoo, and instead hunched up, wriggled his fuzzy little tail, and leaped into his lap. "_Ancestors, _get _off_!" Varric tried to peel the kitten off his pants, but Pouncy was having none of it, and instead curled up and started to knead and purr.

Lise laughed. "Might as well give up, Varric, or you'll end up with claw marks everywhere."

"Maker, I _hate_ cats. I'll never get the hair off my clothes." She noticed, however, that he'd already started petting the kitten. He sighed. "So. Who's Leandra trying to hook you up with now?"

She shook her head. "No one, this time. She said she understood, and had learned from her own example, and wouldn't ask me to marry when I already care for someone else." She sighed, deeply.

He winced. "Which got you feeling guilty about not producing Hawke/Amell heirs, am I right? And then on top of it, made you think more about Robes."

She nodded. "It's hopeless, Varric. But I just can't make myself give up and care for someone else."

"Oh, I don't know if I'd ever say hopeless, Beautiful. You never know – and around you, things have a tendency to happen. Tell you what. It's one of those days, and I don't see qunari trying to burn down the city-"

"It was a fanatic trying to blame it on the qunari, actually."

"Bah, details." He waved his hand, which meant he was no longer petting the kitten, and the kitten protested. He looked down. "Little slave-driver… Anyway. Go get your birthday present, Hawke. This is the perfect day for me to teach you to play."

Lise shrugged. "Don't have anything else to do." As she walked into the foyer, she saw Orsino push open the front door with a smile; she nodded to him and hurried off to her room. The mage entered the study with a questioning look on his face.

"Hello, Varric. Is everything all right with Hawke?"

Varric hid a frown of displeasure; he knew that normally, Orsino was good for her, but today he might just make a lot of things worse. He shrugged. "Who, Beautiful? I think she's just feeling housebound. She hasn't really had anything to do since that qunari episode, and long periods of boredom tend to leave her sitting around thinking about things she doesn't need to think about."

Orsino sat down and raised an eyebrow. "Such as?"

Varric sat back as Pouncy, intrigued by the newcomer, jumped down and wandered over to play with the edge of his robe. "You know her pretty well by now, Robes. But I think there are things about her you probably still haven't seen."

Orsino blinked. "Robes?"

Varric grinned. "You're basically one of us. Had to give you a nickname."

"I'm not sure whether I should be appreciative or disturbed." He quirked the corner of his mouth, as Varric grinned again.

"Join the club. Anyway – something you probably don't know about our fearless leader there is that she's horribly insecure." As Orsino looked surprised, the dwarf continued. "What's the first thing that comes to mind when you think of Hawke?"

_Beautiful, intelligent, funny, unobtainable_? Of course, he couldn't say any of these things, but the look on his face was enough to make Varric sit back.

"Exactly. Every time you see her in a situation, she's calm, poised, and optimistic. She gets the job done – which tends to make people think that she's invincible. But she's not. And unfortunately, one of her weaknesses is that she can't _ever_ bear to let people down. So when people who think she's invincible start relying on her, she starts berating herself every time she fails. She still hasn't forgiven herself for Carver's death _or_ Bethany's induction into the Wardens, you know."

Orsino nodded, slowly. "I figured as much."

Varric shrugged. "Add that to a lower-than-normal sense of self-worth and you find someone who's really not as strong as she pretends to be. She just forces herself to be, because she _has_ to." He gave the elf a long look. "That's not to say that's she's not very good at what she does, or that she's not my favourite person in Kirkwall, after myself. It just means that sometimes she needs a shoulder, too."

Well, that was the only oar he was going to put in unless someone asked for his advice – he hoped it would do the First Enchanter some good. Not that Robes had ever been one to add to her troubles... but if Varric had given him the right push, he might be someone who could at least help lessen them to some extent.

After some thought, Orsino smiled at Varric. "She seems to have at least one person looking out for her." He inclined his head towards the dwarf. "And I can tell that the rest of your companions care for her, too. So I will promise that if she ever needs my shoulder, she will have it."

At this point, Lise came back, carrying a large, carved box. She seemed to be a bit calmer, but when she saw Varric and Orsino deep in conversation she shot a look at the dwarf, who shrugged. She returned the shrug and then set the box down on her desk.

"So, what on earth is it anyway? I've looked at it several times and all I see are very prettily carved tablets."

"It's a game I've been told originated in the far east, called 'Anaan Esaam Atashi', or 'victory is with the dragon.' I don't think it's qunari, though, even if the name is."

Lise chuckled. "I don't see the qunari ever playing games – it's probably from some place that shares a language, or someone trying to trade in on the exoticism."

Nodding, Orsino leaned forward. "I think you're right – I've heard of this game before, though I've never seen it played. I think it's more prevalent in Tevinter – which would explain why it has a qunari name. They may not speak much of the language, but the magisters like to pretend that they own everything." He looked at Varric. "Did you give this to Lise for Midwinter?"

Varric raised an eyebrow his use of her first name, but shook his head, conveniently not looking at her. "No, it was a birthday gift. I just hadn't gotten around to teaching her, all things considered."

Orsino blinked. "Birthday?"

Varric continued to ignore Hawke, who was attempting to telegraph _no really, stop, you don't have to say anything, really_ with her eyes. He grinned. "Oh, you didn't know? Beautiful here had a birthday earlier this month." He turned to Lise, grinning. "Your fortieth, wasn't it?"

"_Twenty-ninth!_" The words came out in a near-yelp, and he could tell that she was going to kill him later, but Maker, it was worth it.

Orsino looked from Varric to Lise, frowning. "I'm sorry, I didn't know about it."

Lise, determined to take control of the situation, shook her hands in a "don't bother" gesture. "No, please, Orsino. I really didn't make a deal out of it – I would have been perfectly fine if everyone had forgotten about it." She glared at Varric, who was laughing silently.

"She's worried about growing old," the dwarf said in a stage whisper, leaning over towards Orsino.

"_VARRIC._"

He cleared his throat quickly, changing the subject while still chuckling. "All right, how about a game? The rules are pretty easy. You see the markings on the tiles? They're divided into suits – flowers, coins, dragons, and so forth. You make pairs or runs or various combinations with them, with dragons being the highest ranking tiles..." He continued to explain the rules, and after a while, the others nodded.

Hawke sighed. "Well, I think the best way to figure it out is to play."

* * *

><p>Three hours later Varric had won two rounds, Orsino one, and Lise none – but the dwarf could see that she was in much better spirits than when he'd first come to visit. He sat back with a satisfied sigh. "Well, you two, I think I've left Bianca alone long enough. Time for me to head back to the Hanged Man."<p>

Lise got up to give him a hug, murmuring, "Don't worry, I'm still going to kill you," into his ear, and he chuckled. He nodded to Orsino.

"Night, Robes. See you two later."

After he'd gone, Lise sank onto the divan with a sigh. "Maker, he's such a pain in the _ass_."

Orsino looked at her, keeping his expression neutral. "You had a birthday this month?"

She frowned. "It was when the Gallows was on lockdown. By the time I'd remembered it, you'd already told me that we wouldn't be able to visit for a few days, so I saw no reason to mention it. I didn't even keep the day with anyone other than mother and Fen, who stopped by for an hour or two."

He looked slightly relieved. "I see. I'm sorry, then, that I couldn't celebrate it with you." Turning his head, he gave her a slightly curious look. "You're not _really_ worried about being old, are you?"

She snorted. "Fenris once said something quite sensible - 'Any time Varric tells you something in confidence, it's probably bullshit.' Or something in that line." Orsino chuckled. "Anyhow, I have nothing against growing older." Lise shrugged, blushing a bit. _After all, I seem to have a thing for older men_.

_That,_ however, she kept to herself, as she busied herself repacking the box of game tiles. After a few minutes of companionable silence, she turned to him. "How was your day?"

He sighed. "Not so good. You remember Feynriel, don't you?"

Lise put the lid on the box, frowning. "I do. Is something wrong? Have they been trying to break him out again?"

Orsino shook his head. "No. But his nightmares – you remember them?" She nodded. "Well, they never went away, and yesterday he went to sleep – and hasn't woken yet."

She inhaled, sharply. "Do you know what's wrong?"

He shook his head again, looking unhappy. "I don't. I can only guess that it has something to do with his latent magical ability – he's never _once_ accessed a _tenth_ of his powers in any lesson I've seen, and he seems unable to do so. I've given the templars some placating blandishments to keep him safe for now, but if Meredith suspects at any point that he's _a_ danger or _in_ danger, she'll have him killed while he sleeps."

Looking horrified, Lise sat down next to him, unable to keep herself from taking his hand as he was wont to do for her. "Will it help any if I go to his mother? Merrill and Arianni have become quite close in the years since her son went to the Circle."

He closed his eyes, looking a very little relieved. "I can't think of anything else that might help, Lise. Thank you. Can you try to go soon?"

She nodded. "First thing in the morning, I promise. Unless you'd rather I go now-?"

"No, of course not." He gave her a faint, but wry, smile. "I've told the templars that he was worn out after a focusing experiment backfired and drained him. It is not unusual to sleep for up to forty-eight hours after such an occurrence. He will be safe until tomorrow night, at the earliest."

Hawke got up and went to her desk, uncorking her inkwell. "I'll send messages to Merrill, Anders, and Fenris tonight, asking them to meet me at Merrill's house very early in the morning. It shouldn't be a problem, as they're all early risers." She wrote a few lines on three pieces of parchment, sealed each one, and called for Bodahn.

"Please have Wolf and two of the other boys take these notes for me – they're urgent."

He bowed. "Right away, messere."

When he'd left, she turned to Orsino. "Do you need to leave now, then?"

He shook his head. "Not yet. It's been a long day, and it's much more peaceful here than in the Gallows."

Lise nodded towards the box of Atashi tiles. "We could play another game, or I can bring out the chessboard?"

Orsino paused for only a moment before nodding towards her violin, sitting on the shelf behind her desk. "Would you play?"

She nodded, smiling, as she reached for it. "Of course."

* * *

><p><em>The characters belong to Bioware, I just use them.<em>


	12. Resisting Temptation

_All I can say right now is that Orsino is very sexy, even when only given a cameo. Nom._

* * *

><p><em>Ch. 12, in which our heroine makes some difficult decisions and meets Justice.<em>

The sun was still touching the horizon the next morning when Anders, Lise, and Fenris gathered at Merrill's house. Hawke quickly gave them what little information she'd gotten from the First Enchanter.

"You realize that if we'd just helped him escape in the first place-" Anders began, when Fenris interrupted him.

"Yes, because _then_ he would have been making deals with demons somewhere we _couldn't_ put a stop to it. What a wonderful plan."

Merrill piped up. "But there's not necessarily anything wrong with demons, you know-"

"Enough!" Everyone turned to look at Lise, the sharpness in her tone surprising them. She closed her eyes, counted to ten, and thought wryly of what Varric had said the day before – '_they probably figure you just get tired of babysitting all the time_.' Maker, but wasn't _that_ the truth.

"Look, I know this isn't something that makes _anyone_ particularly happy – I'd rather it not be happening, that's for certain. But I asked you three along because I _need_ you. If anyone wants to leave, step out now." She sighed. "We don't even know what we're going up against. It's a slim chance that Arianni will even be able to help us."

The other three shrugged, and looked a little ashamed, and no one left. She took a deep breath. "Merrill, I want you here because you're closest to Arianni and I don't want to worry her more than I have to. Anders, you're the only one here who's an expert on the fade – and I think we can all be pretty sure that's where he's wandering around. Fenris, I hope I won't need your sword, but if it comes down to it-" she trailed off, and he nodded, silently.

They let Merrill lead them through the alienage's winding alleys to a small house. She knocked, and the door opened much more quickly than Lise expected. When Arianni saw the Dalish elf, she immediately began to cry. "Oh, Merrill, it's terrible! My poor boy, my Feynriel – he's lost and asleep and no one can wake him!"

Confused, Hawke stepped forward. "Arianni, how-" but before she could continue the distraught woman turned to her with a look of hope.

"Serah Hawke! You're the one who found him, sent him to the Circle. If anyone can help my poor Feynriel, it's you."

Lise held up a hand. "Please, Arianni. I came on Feynriel's behalf, it's true. But this is a recent development – how did you already know about it?"

"It's Ser Thrask. He keeps me appraised of my boy's progress, you see. He came to me yesterday, around noon, to tell me that Feynriel had gone to sleep but hadn't woken… they think that something's wrong and if someone doesn't help him, the Knight-Commander will kill him!"

With slightly-narrowed eyes, Lise filed this information away for future investigation. While she appreciated that Thrask was trying to get help to the boy before anything happened, she wasn't sure that creating panic with his relatives was a good idea. But it wasn't Arianni's fault, so she merely nodded as the elf continued.

"I know from Merrill that her clan is nearby, so I sent a message to the Keeper. She sent back to say that there was an old Dalish ritual she could perform and that she'd come here without delay – but someone's going to need to go into the fade after my poor boy."

She gave Hawke a look of anxiety that clearly begged, "Will you do this?" and Hawke nodded. "I would like to speak with Marethari when she arrives, but if you would like, I will go after Feynriel."

The relief on his mother's face was immense. "Oh, messere, I knew I could rely on you. You've already done so much for Feynriel. I expect the Keeper any time now, and-"

Just then, from behind Anders, they heard, "It is good to see you, _da'len_." The group turned to see Marethari walking towards them. Merrill bowed, awkwardly, and scuttled closer to Lise, who nodded.

"Keeper Marethari. What can you tell us about Feynriel's condition?"

The elder elf sighed. "I did not want to mention this by letter, but it is clear to me that he is a rare one, who we call 'somniari' – one who can walk in the fade and control it, and the dreams of others within. Such a talent is scarce beyond measure; it is no wonder that your Circle could not help him. But it is also dangerous. If he does not harness this power, he will be easy prey to all who inhabit the dreaming world."

Lise frowned. This did not sound at all good, considering how long Feynriel had been out, and how long he'd been having nightmares. "What can we do, Keeper?"

Arianni stepped forward. "Serah Hawke has already said that she will go into the fade to find Feynriel. It can't be too late!"

Marethari turned to Hawke with a nod. "You are ever courageous, young one. If you will do this, then I think we may still have a chance. But you cannot go alone, especially as you hold no magic yourself."

Lise turned to look at her little group, nodding. "Merrill, I need you to stay here with Arianni; talk to her, explain what you can. Anders, you'll come with me. If anyone will be able to aid me there it is you, with Justice."

Anders smiled at this, but Fenris frowned, and the frown grew larger when she turned to him. "Fen, I need you to stay here and stand watch." He started to argue, but she shook her head. "No. You _must _make sure that nothing happens to either of us. If the worst happens-" she took a breath. "Well, if either of us are possessed, kill us quickly. Although, I think Anders will probably be safe, so... I guess... kill me?" She shrugged, with a wry, unhappy smile.

Fenris glared at Anders. "I will gladly slay _him_." Anders returned the glare. "But you, Hawke..." He gave her a fierce look, putting both hands on her shoulders. "_You _will_ come back_."

She took a deep, shaky breath, and smiled at him. "Alright, Fenris. I promise. I'll return."

At that point, Marethari took Lise's elbow and drew her aside. "I do not want Arianni to hear this," she said, quietly. "But if Feynriel is possessed, the destruction will be unimaginable. You _must_ avoid this, at all costs. If you have to, kill him. A death in the fade will make him what your mages call tranquil." Lise frowned, but nodded.

The Keeper had both Hawke and Anders lie down on the bed, and the last thing Lise remembered was the sound of soft elven as Marethari gently touched her forehead.

* * *

><p>Moments later, she blinked.<p>

"What in Thedas-?" She looked around; she could swear she was standing in the middle of the main hallway in the Gallows. It could not be real – she remembered that Marethari was going to send her into the fade, and everything around had a surreal, wavering look, with the colours bleached and pale.

"This is the fade." Anders spoke from her side, but his voice was harsh and echoing.

She turned to look at him. "Anders? No – Justice."

Justice nodded. "Anders has told you of me, I think."

Lise crossed her arms, stepping back for a moment. "He has. And if you and I were more at leisure, I would have a _great_ many things to 'discuss' with you. But we have a job, and that takes precedence. Just remember that you are still at my side, and I still make the decisions."

He frowned, but nodded. "Lead on."

Coming into the small courtyard inside the gates, she saw the tell-tale form of a shade materialize before them.

"You are here for the boy, are you not?"

"We are. What can you tell us of him?"

"You are not the only ones who want him. Two of my brethren – Caress and Wyrm – both play with his mind even as we speak. But I am Torpor, and I would make a bargain with you-"

Lise stopped him with a sharp cutting motion of her hand. "Impossible." At her side, Justice nodded approvingly, and by the time the demon had reared back in anger, the mage had him locked down with crushing force. She unsheathed her hunting dagger, and with a swift motion, drove it into the pulsating sphere at the demon's core, causing its whole body to writhe in a swirl of darkness and collapse in upon itself. "The sloth demons are always the easiest ones to deal with," she muttered.

Walking up a short flight of stairs, she found herself in familiar territory – the hallway that housed Orsino and Meredith's offices. No one was in either, but as she stepped into the small courtyard at the end of the hall, the atmosphere of the fade wrenched. As it cleared she found herself standing in the open – but not as herself. Blinking, she looked around, but did not see Justice; then she realized that her clothing felt strange and that instead of her leathers she was dressed in mage robes. _Familiar_ mage robes.

_So this is what his robes feel like._ Lise blushed, wondering for a moment if she'd stumbled into a dream of her own, and adjusted the three-headed serpent staff at her back in an attempt to clear her mind. She then saw Feynriel, however, across the courtyard with – Marethari? - standing beside him and a crowd of Dalish elves all around.

The Keeper addressed the gathering. "My friends! You see before you the saviour of our people; his features may mark him as human but in his heart beats the blood of the Dales. He is a prisoner of the Circle now, but we will free him and through him we will find our place once more!"

Feynriel looked nearly as confused as Lise was. "I... I don't know what to say."

She realized that if she jumped up and started shouting "Demons, demons, beware," she'd merely frighten him, throwing his mind into more disarray. But she could not continue to indulge this – obviously the work of a pride demon - and she had to say something. She stepped forward.

"Say no, Feynriel."

The boy blinked. "First Enchanter?" She groaned, mentally – _great. It's not just me_. She then had to resist the urge to reach up and feel the tips of her ears. Feynriel, however, was continuing. "Mother always said the Dalish are honourable – why would the Keeper lie to me?"

"You know of the elves, and their pride. Did your mother not fear to return to them once she'd given birth to a half-elven son? Why would the Keeper entrust her entire clan to a human?"

Marethari stepped forward. "You are one of _us_, Feynriel. Your magic will restore our greatness-" but this is where she made her mistake, and he moved back.

"But- I can't even control my magic. The Circle says I have power, but no gift for using it."

Lise stepped forward again. "Can the elves _really_ trust you with the power to shape reality?" When the boy hesitated, she looked him in the eye. "Could you trust yourself?"

Before he could speak, the false Keeper jumped between them. "Feynriel! Don't listen to him – the First Enchanter is just trying to keep you from recognizing your greatness!"

But it was too late, and the boy was already shaking his head. "To keep me from temptation, you mean – from demons. Maker - what are you? Begone, fiend!" He ran off as Marethari's face contorted into a snarl.

Another wrench and Lise was back to herself – _at least I can say I've been in his shoes, now_ – and Justice was standing beside her. A massive, hulking demon faced them both.

"You fool! With my power joined to his, Feynriel would have changed the world!"

She pointed at him, angrily. "It was _not_ what he wanted. That is not the kind of change the world needs!"

The demon – Wyrm, she realized – laughed. "But you. What of you, little mortal? I can give you so much... I can bring back those whom you thought were lost." In a flash, the demon had shrunk and instead of a fiend, she saw Carver standing before her. "_Sister_," he said, reaching out to her. She almost took his hand, but before she could the figure changed into Bethany – not Bethany of the Grey Wardens, or of Kirkwall, but smiling, laughing Bethy from even before their father had died.

Lise closed her eyes – _Maker help me_ – and shook her head. "You cannot bring back what is already gone, and I cannot ruin the life of another merely for my own whims. I will drive you out!"

Of all the battles she had ever faced, this was the hardest for Hawke – Wyrm continued to morph between Carver and Bethany with each blow she landed. But soon enough it was over, and at least the dead and drained husk looked nothing like either. She swallowed. "Let's go," she said hoarsely.

"You are strong, mortal, to resist such temptations." Justice spoke for the first time since their entrance, his tone proud.

She whirled to face him, still trembling. "You have no idea, so do _not_ speak of that again!" He winced, and she continued along the passage.

As they stepped through the door into the long templar meeting room, Lise felt the fade wrench again. She found herself standing in front of a desk where a young boy – obviously Feynriel at eight or ten – sat with Vincento, his father, leaning over him. A quick glance down confirmed her suspicions, that she was now in the guise of Arianni.

"Ah, well done!" Vincento was saying. "I will have you scribing all of my letters soon. If I have known you were such a bright lad, I would have brought you with me much earlier."

Feynriel looked up at him, his face alight. "Does that mean I can go with you to Antiva? Mother said perhaps this summer – right mother?"

Again, Lise realized that she couldn't just warn Feynriel away. But she did not know as much about this part of Feynriel's life. Thinking quickly, she shook her head.

"Your father never wanted anything to do with you, son. Don't listen to him."

The look in his eyes made her wince, as he turned to his father. "Why are you lying to me?"

"Don't listen to her, son! She's always resented you. She wanted you gone so that she could return to the Dalish – _I'm_ the one who loves you."

The boy blinked. "Then why can't I remember you?" _Bright lad_, she thought.

"This is a trick, Feynriel. He wants something from you."

Feynriel was on a roll by this point. "That's right! I spent my entire childhood _waiting_ for you!"

'Vincento' looked desperate. "Your mother never allowed-" but his son cut him off.

"My mother loves me. She showed me all her letters to you, and you – never wrote her back! _She's _the one who taught me to write. _Who are you_?"

The pretender threw off its disguse then, and young Feynriel ran away, screaming. A voluptuous desire demon with flaming purple eyes and horns faced Hawke, and made a gesture. As had happened previously, Lise was then back to her own self with Justice at her side.

Caress did not rail, did not even seem to be angry that Feynriel was gone. "Mmm, mortal," she purred. " I have been watching you since you stepped into this place; I _saw_ what was on your mind when you stood there before Wyrm in the guise of another. I could give him to you, you know. Remove all obstacles between you two-"

And then for a split second, Lise was not in the fade. Instead, she lay on a soft bed, and Orsino was leaning over her, his mage robes open to the waist. "_I am yours,_" he murmured. "_I defy Meredith and all who would come between us._" His lips found her neck and -

"_NO!"_ She screamed, forcing the dream away, forcing herself back into the room where Caress snarled in anger, and Justice looked confused. "I will _never_ let you control him!" She found her bow in her hand and she began to shoot at lightning speed, each word punctuated with an arrow. "_I. DEFY. YOU!" _

Justice did not even have a chance to step in before the demon fell to the floor, riddled with feathered shafts. Panting slightly in anger, Hawke stood over the body and ripped an arrow from the demon's flesh, throwing it across the room.

"What did she offer you?" She could hear the puzzlement in his voice. "Of whom did she speak?"

Lise buried her face in her hands for a moment, trying desperately to catch her breath and calm her emotions. She shook her head, not looking up. "Never ask me that again."

* * *

><p>They found Feynriel back in the courtyard where Torpor had been. "Messere," he said, looking confused. "If this is real, then I owe you my life twice over."<p>

Lise nodded. "You are different from what the Circle thought," she said. "You have the power to control the fade and the dreams of those within it. And as such, you are dangerous until you have learned to control this power."

He nodded, looking solemn and scared. "I can see the seams and the stitching all around me, I think. But... what can I do? The Circle doesn't know how to teach me, and-" he stopped. "Tevinter. They would know how to help me, wouldn't they?"

She took a deep breath. "They would, but before I can even think of aiding you, Feynriel, I would require your sworn word that no matter what you saw there, you would hold onto this, your home. Remember everything your mother taught you, and _never_ fall to the depravity of the magisters."

"I can swear that, easily." He frowned. "I've talked to some of the apprentices who've been there and it sounds horrible."

She shrugged. "That's as may be, but you never know what temptations you may be offered." She winced, the words striking her still-fresh wound.

"Then, I swear it. I will not go back on my word, I owe you too much." He turned but then looked back. "I will have to go quickly, before the templars realize my abilities; will you tell my mother farewell?"

Lise nodded. "I will. Now, Feynriel – will you send us home?"

* * *

><p>She came back to herself with a jolt, and saw cautious concern wash Fenris' face as he stood over her. "Hawke?"<p>

Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she groaned – she might have been sleeping in the real world but she was still going to feel the effects of those fights from the fade later on. "In the flesh. _Maker, _I hurt."

Concern turned to relief and he helped her up. "Did you succeed?"

Anders got up from the other side of the bed and nodded. "I was only there peripherally, but I can promise that Feynriel is free and clear. Hawke saved him from at least three separate demons."

"Oh, praise be! I must go to the Gallows, see my son, and-" Lise shook her head, putting a hand on the elf's arm.

"I'm sorry, Arianni, but he asked me to say farewell. The Circle here cannot help him; he will need to seek training elsewhere."

As his mother frowned, Marethari stepped forward and nodded. "He is special, Arianni, and if he is not taught what he needs, he will be in great danger." Turning away, she took Hawke's arm. "You did a great deed today, child. Thank you."

Hawke nodded, and stepped out of the house before the others were ready to leave. She closed her eyes; it had been a hard day. And she would have to report to Orsino soon - she only hoped she could keep her mind on track.

* * *

><p><em>As always, the characters belong to Bioware, I merely play with them<em>.


	13. The Maker Has a Sense of Humour

_So, I'm not sure if this dream sequence is enough to move the story into an M rating - I'm kind of hoping it's not, yet, but if anyone feels differently please feel free to let me know. I tried to keep it circumspect, but... but_... robes.

* * *

><p><em>Ch. 13, in which our heroine gives advice, and has a... difficult... night.<em>

_~As they stepped through the doorway of her room, Orsino – already holding Lise's hand – drew her to him. "You cannot fathom how long I have _wanted_ you, Lise – how long I have loved you. It took nearly losing you to the fade to make me see it, but I cannot let this go any further without telling you how I feel."_

_She blushed, smiling softly, and looked down. "I _do_ fathom, because I feel the same and have for a long while. I love you, Orsino. I could never love anyone else, and I don't care that you're in the Circle. I want you, and you alone."_

_He took a deep breath and put a finger under her chin, tilting her face up so that he could kiss her. It was long, slow, and full of promise, and by the time she pulled away, gasping, he'd gently pushed her up against one of her bedposts._

_What would seem almost too bold to her at any other time just felt natural now. She stepped to the right, the bed catching the back of her knees, and he gently pushed her down, laying her sideways across the soft blankets. For a moment, he looked down at her, and she felt herself blushing as his eyes took in her figure, and then he leaned over and kissed her again, holding himself above her with one hand beside her head. "_So beautiful_," he murmured against her lips. _

_She reached out and began to pull at the clasps holding his robe shut. When she'd gotten them open, down to his waist, she slid her hand along the lean muscles of his chest and he pulled back, trying to catch his breath. She looked down, and through the open robe she could see his narrow hips just hidden in the shadows behind his enchanter's belt. The sight made her squirm._

_He chuckled and then his lips were on her throat, his fingers stroking her the opposite side of her neck. They drifted down, down her chest, and he began to stroke the skin along the edge of her crimson bodice, and~_

Lise sat up in bed, gasping. _Maker help me_. _I can't keep having dreams like that_. She drew her knees up, wrapping her arms around them and then buried her face against them, trying to catch her breath. _I'd say that I was still being tempted by that damn demon, but no. As Varric would say, I don't _need_ a demon._

* * *

><p>After they'd left Arianni's house that morning, she'd walked back to Hightown with Fenris; Merril had stayed with the elf to comfort her and Anders had excused himself shortly after saying that he had some patients in Lowtown that he wanted to look in on. A while after he'd left, Fenris spoke.<p>

"Those demons. They tempted you, didn't they?"

She nodded. "It was harder than I expected it to be."

He shrugged. "That happens, the more that you have to lose. All I have now is you and Orana, but losing either of you would kill me, I think."

Lise smiled, but sighed. "I think I could have handled loss better than what gain I was offered."

Fenris raised an eyebrow. "Carver?"

She nodded. "And Bethy from back when she was still happy. I mean, she's happy now, but since we left Lothering..." she shrugged. "And other things. It was not an easy day."

He put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "If anyone could have done it, it was you, Hawke. That's why we follow you."

She smirked. "What, it's not just my stunning good looks and my winsome personality?"

The elf laughed. "Those too, although more for some of us than for others."

By this time they were at his door. She bid him farewell and continued on home to clean up, and then slowly made her way down to the Gallows. She didn't see Thrask anywhere, but when she got to Orsino's study she found him pacing behind his desk.

"Orsino? Is something wrong?"

He looked up in surprise and sat down in his chair, looking immensely relieved. "Oh thank the Maker, you're all right."

She blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Ser Thrask went to the alienage to check on Arianni; she and Merrill told him that you and Anders had gone into the fade to look for Feynriel."

Hawke frowned. "Ser Thrask is everywhere, it seems. He'd already been to Arianni yesterday to let her know the state that Feynriel was in. While it seems that his dedication had a good outcome this time, I'm not sure how much I agree with him having worried her like that."

Orsino tilted his head. "Would _you_ not have told her that her son was in danger?"

"It's not that so much, although it _does_ feel like he went to her before enough of the facts were known. I think what bothers me is that he seemed to be deliberately painting a worst-case scenario for her, instead of offering her any hope whatsoever. I understand that he doesn't agree with a lot of the policy here, but I'm not sure that using scare tactics on a single mother is really the best way to combat it."

He shrugged a little. "I suppose you're right, but I'm sure that it was well-meant."

She had her own reservations on that, but she also knew she was over-suspicious sometimes, so she nodded. "Oh, I'm sure it was. But... why were you so worried?"

Orsino gave her a look. "You've never been in the fade before, correct?"

Lise shook her head. "No, I haven't. Not before today, unless you count dreams."

"I _have_. And I know what kind of bargains demons can offer. I know what pitfalls lie in the fade. I have every faith in your abilities and your willpower, Lise, but..." he looked away. "I just could not bear the thought that Fenris might have to kill you because of something I'd asked you to do."

She blushed at this, but quickly gave a somewhat-forced chuckle. "Oh, you know me. Nothing will ever happen to me because then who would the Viscount, the Arishok, and everyone in Kirkwall with a lost kitten go to for help?"

He looked back at her, but his smile was very forced. "I've half a mind to make you promise that, my friend." She shivered at his tone. _I've really got to stop thinking about what happened earlier. That's colouring everything, I think. _

After a moment, she realized she hadn't actually told him the outcome of their foray, so she explained what Marethari had told them about somniari, and that Feynriel had decided that he needed to go to Minrathous for training. He nodded, slowly.

"That makes the most sense, and although I will be glad to see him safely away from here I am not so sure about Tevinter. But you are right; someone must teach him. I cannot – all I know about somniari is that they are sometimes called Dreamstalkers when they go rogue. But we can sometimes request transfers for our mages, so I will put one through. Hopefully it will catch Meredith in a good mood."

Lise nodded. "Well, I know you have things to do, so I should go. Perhaps, though, I'll see you tonight?"

He smiled. "Of course." But as she turned to go, he cleared his throat. "I know it's personal, but would it help to talk about the demons? I'm sure they tried to taunt you with something."

She flushed brightly, and he blinked. "I... Well, a pride demon offered me Carver, and Bethy. I could have had them both back and happy. But the rest of it..." she shook her head. "I'd rather not, if that's all right." Orsino nodded, looking a little hurt, and she winced. "Please. It's not that I don't trust you, I'm just... really ashamed of it. It's not easy to admit that you almost fell to a demon." He nodded again, and with a last look, she left, sighing.

As he heard her tread retreat down the hall, he sat down and sighed as well. He was glad she was safe, but found himself wondering just what it was that had set her so badly on edge.

* * *

><p>On the short boat ride back to the main city, Lise thought about going to see Anders, then decided that she should because she wanted to apologize for her attitude towards Justice. <em>He knows I don't approve, but when I snapped at him about the demons that was my anger and shame talking. He did nothing wrong.<em>

A few minutes' walking brought her to the entrance nearest his clinic, and she pulled up her hood and slipped down into the semi-darkness. Most people who lived in Lowtown and lower knew about him, if only as the mysterious "Fereldan healer", and it seemed to be the unspoken rule that anyone in the immediate vicinity of his clinic was to be left alone by any cutpurses or gang members. Still, she knew that someone of her status being seen nearby would bring unwelcome attention to him so she always made sure that she was as inconspicuous as possible when she visited.

He was just setting a boy's broken leg when she walked in. He nodded to her, then finished his job and gave the mother instructions on how to care for it until it had fully healed. After washing his hands, he walked towards her with a happy look that always made her wince inwardly.

"Hawke! It's rare that I see you down here and rarer still that I see you twice in a day. What's up? Not sick, I hope? Sandal didn't eat another one of your indoor herbals, did he?"

She smiled, shaking her head. "No, everyone is fine. I just came by to thank you for today. I really _couldn't_ have done it without you."

He flushed. "It was Justice, you know. I didn't really do anything."

Lise shrugged. "You always tell me that he's in there, and that you two aren't distinguishable when I ask you in the real world. I figure the same thing applies when we're in the fade, even if you're speaking with Justice's voice and not Anders'."

The blush strengthened and he gave her a tender smile. "No, Hawke. You still don't need to thank me. You know that any of us would give ourselves to protect you, and I-"

She shook her head, quickly, guessing where he was trying to lead the conversation and not wanting to deal with another fight today. "I'd never ask for such sacrifices, Anders – but the fact that you all trust me so much does make me grateful that I have such an amazing group of friends."

He sighed, a little, and she winced again at the shuttered look that sprang into his eyes, but it was for the best. She continued. "I also owe you an apology, though."

Anders blinked. "You do? Why?"

"I was very unkind to you in the fade, and you didn't deserve it."

He shook his head. "Hawke, I already know that you disapprove of Justice. It's all right, it really is." His tone was wistful, however – she knew that he badly wanted her to accept the fade spirit that was half of his soul. She also knew that she couldn't; that much was growing clearer with each time she came in contact with it.

"I meant that part, actually. If we'd had a moment, I probably _would_ have argued with Justice, which probably would have made things that much more awkward. But I snapped at him – and you - later, and for that I apologize. You were proud of my refusal to give into that damnable pride demon, but I didn't feel I deserved it. I almost gave in, you know."

Anders put a hand on her arm. "I don't think anyone is ever completely unswayed when faced with a demon, Hawke. Don't castigate yourself for it – the important thing is that you rejected him, and completely. And you didn't even hesitate with the desire demon – she hadn't even finished her offer before you launched yourself at her. To be honest, it frightened me a little; I haven't seen you that angry since we fought those darkspawn in the deep roads while looking for Stroud and his Wardens. And then it was Bethany's life on the line."

She flushed; this _really_ wasn't a conversation she needed to have with Anders, of all people. She attempted to shrug it off. "I was just sick of the games by that point, and tired of being jerked around."

He gave her a long look, but then nodded. "No matter; you got the job done like we all knew you would." Then, taking his hand away, he turned away slightly and began to tell her about some patients that he'd seen that day in his clinic.

* * *

><p>It was afternoon when she got back to the estate, and when she walked in Flora Harriman was just bidding Leandra farewell. She smiled at Hawke, curtseying. "Lady Elisebeth! I have not seen you in some time."<p>

Lise smiled and returned the curtsey. It was always jarring when anyone called her anything other than "Hawke", "Serah Hawke", or "Lise". Or "Beautiful", if you listened to Varric. But she liked Flora very much for the little amount of time they'd spent together. "It has been a while, Lady Flora. I hope you're well?"

Flora nodded. "I am, thank you. Your mother tells me that you are doing well, also." When Lise nodded, she continued. "I am about to go to the Chantry on an errand to speak with Her Grace – would you do me the honour of accompanying me?"

Although she wondered if perhaps Flora wasn't more eager to see Sebastian than Grand Cleric Elthina, Lise nodded in assent, smiling. "I would like that. I have no more pressing duties this afternoon."

Leandra came down the stairs at this point, smiling, and kissed her daughter on the cheek. "While you're there, dear, would you put Carver's name on the prayer wall? I usually do it but I think he would like to know that his sister is thinking about him, too."

She winced at the reminder that she'd been remiss – although this many years after his death she thought that perhaps he'd be busy enough not to notice – and nodded. "Of course, mother." Turning to Flora, she asked, " Would you mind if I changed quickly, first?" She knew it wouldn't really "do" to be seen in the Chantry wearing her usual tunic and leggings.

"Of course." Flora smiled, then turned to Leandra and the two fell into conversation about the prayer wall as Lise slipped away to change into something less "Serah Hawke" and more "Lady Elisebeth." She was back in a few minutes, and the two women left for the short walk to the Chantry.

On the way there, they talked about various and sundry things, and Lise realized more and more that Flora was a very sensible, very intelligent woman – just a lot more poised than she would _ever_ be. When they stepped inside the Chantry, she had to blink a few times before her eyes adjusted to the dim light in the vestibule. It always smelled like dusty incense and sanctity, and although she was not as devout as some of her friends, it always felt peaceful to her. She and Flora walked up the steps to Elthina's suite and on the way Sebastian passed them, going downstairs.

He smiled widely, and swept them a deep bow. "Hawke, Lady Harriman. It's a pleasure to see you both." Lise smiled inwardly when she saw that his eyes lingered on Flora for just a moment longer than they had on her, but she merely nodded, murmuring his name in greeting. Flora did the same, but there was a blush on her cheeks as she did so. Sebastian continued on and Hawke could tell that her companion was having to fight the urge to turn and look back at the prince's retreating figure.

She said nothing, however, and after giving her greeting to Elthina, she bid Flora farewell, leaving her with the Grand Cleric. When she got to the prayer wall, she found Sebastian there, posting the names of his family. When she was done, he smiled after reading the name.

"It is good that you still think of your brother, Hawke, although I'm not surprised. They may be gone, but I like to think it gives them a bit of happiness to know that we still have them in our minds, even if we know that they're in our hearts." She nodded, and he gestured towards the corridor leading out. "I was just leaving. May I walk you home?"

"Of course, Sebastian. Thank you." He held the door for her and they began to walk slowly down the Chantry steps; they hadn't gone far before she noticed that he seemed a bit distracted. "All right, Sebastian. What's on your mind?"

He sighed, and walked over to a small fenced alcove that overlooked of most of Kirkwall and the bay below them. He leaned on the iron railing, looking out at the seagulls flying above the foam-capped waves, and she followed suit. After a moment, he turned to her. "I don't feel like this is a subject concerning anyone but myself and Andraste, but... you're a good friend, Hawke, and your advice is sensible."

Normally, this would be the point in which she snorted, but she could tell that he was serious and had something that worried at him. "I'm not so sure about that last part, but I'd be glad to listen. What's up?"

The noble sighed again. "I know that I've promised Elthina that I would keep the tenets of the Brotherhood even once I've regained Starkhaven, and I really intend to. But sometimes..."

"Sometimes it's hard not to think about Flora Harriman and wonder?"

He frowned. "Am I that obvious?"

Lise chuckled, wryly. "Let's just say that I've had a lot of experience recently in dealing with this sort of thing." She looked at him for a moment. "You know I'm not the most pious individual, for all that I believe in the Maker and most of the Chant. Do you really want my advice?"

Sebastian nodded. "I know you'll be honest with me, Hawke. Please."

She turned back to look at the bay. "I've always wondered every time I hear someone say 'I must turn my mind away from this thing because the Maker is testing me.' How do they know it's really a test from the Maker? I mean, when you deal with things like murder and theft and slavery and blood magic, it's not really difficult to see. But when it's two people who are in love – and yes, she hasn't told me she cares but again, I'm _not_ blind – I have a lot of questions. Especially when the two are very well suited for one another."

He blushed. "But what if the Maker is testing both of us?"

Hawke shook her head. "Do you really believe that the Maker is that cruel? Would he really ruin the lives of two people who are both deeply devoted to him? If He's testing you alone, do you think that he would hurt someone like Flora by making the love two-sided? If he's testing you both, then... don't you think he'd approve _more _of two of his most faithful joined in Chantry-blessed matrimony, providing a new generation of children who will grow up blessed with his love?"

He frowned, but not at her, and she continued. "When you tell me that you need a sign from him to know that you're doing the right thing, well... if you do receive one, how are you going to know? After all, the Maker doesn't just appear in front of us and tell us what he wants. Are you instead going to ignore his sign because you are too busy second-guessing yourself? What if this whole episode – the death of your family, which left _you_ as the heir, and then your rescue of poor Flora, who was being used by her mother – what if it's the sign you're looking for?"

Sebastian blinked at her. "You think _that_ was the sign?"

She shrugged. "I think it's not impossible. Consider it. You'd already given up much of your wasteful, sinful ways to become an affirmed who loves the Maker deeply. You even became a Brother. So unless you feel that perhaps you're the next Andraste -"

He flushed. "I am not and never could be."

"-well, then. Isn't it a little conceited to think that the Maker ruined the lives of so many just to test one who was already faithful? I think it's more likely that it was his way of saying 'my son, this is the path I wish you to follow.'" She smiled. "That's my advice, for what it's worth. I'm certainly not well-versed in the Chant or the theology behind it. But I don't think the Maker is cruel; instead, I think he rewards those he loves and feels are deserving."

For a long time, Sebastian looked out towards the water, not saying anything, and she could tell that he was dealing with a lot of conflicting thoughts. After a few minutes, he turned back to her, with a nod. "Hawke, thank you. I'm still not necessarily convinced, but you... make an apt argument. I'll certainly consider what you said. You've given me a lot to think about."

After he left her at her door, she watched him leave, sighing as she thought about her feelings for Orsino. _Of course, that doesn't mean the Maker doesn't enjoy watching us squirm sometimes. He certainly has a sense of humour_.

* * *

><p><em>As always, the characters belong to Bioware. I'm just a puppeteer.<em>


	14. Spring is for Lovers and Fools

_Timeskip a few months, it's mid-spring, with all that entails. As always, reviews are welcome! Thank you for reading!_

* * *

><p><em>Ch. 14, in which our heroine deals with spring drama, and is requested by the Viscount again.<em>

At a knock on his door, Orsino opened it to see Hawke, looking blue and out-of-sorts. He blinked. "Lise! Come in!" He let her close the door behind herself as he bustled about, cleaning off a window seat she hadn't seen before.

She raised an eyebrow. "Am I going mad, or did you suddenly develop a window in the middle of your study? I only remember those small, airless things up top." She pointed.

He chuckled. "It's been there all along, I just keep it behind tapestries and bookshelves during the fall and winter to hoard warmth. Meredith doesn't necessarily _approve_ that it's there, but considering it opens out over the bay I think she is less worried that it will be used for an escape." He grinned. "Perhaps she hopes I'll throw myself out in a fit of pique one of these days. And until then, well. The sea breezes are wonderful."

Lise smiled. "Well, I certainly hope that you'll never prove her right."

He took her arm and led her to the seat. "Don't worry, my dear. I enjoy living too much. Especially as it annoys Meredith."

She sat down, closing her eyes as she leaned back against the window. Breathing deeply, she sighed. "You're right. This _is_ nice."

Orsino raised an eyebrow as he rang for a servant. "What has you so down, Lise? I don't usually see you here until evening."

She grimaced. "Yes, well. Spring has sprung and it seems to have made everyone crazy but myself." He smirked, but before he could respond the door opened and a servant looked in.

"Refreshments for Serah Hawke and myself?" Orsino asked. The tranquil nodded, closing the door again.

Lise gave him a wry eye-roll. "Don't start, Orsino. Varric already tells me I'm crazy. I don't need it from _you_, too."

He laughed. "Where _are_ your companions?"

"That's just it. Varric is off seeing to trade deals in Amaranthine – people are _still_ interested in that damn thaig – and Isabela is hung over. Fenris is 'spending the day with' Orana, Aveline and Donnic are off in their own world, mother is on a date, and Sebastian is canoodling with Andraste. I don't know where Merrill is – I can only assume she's off frolicking. Somewhere."

Orsino laughed with a snort. "Not all elves frolic, Lise."

She fixed him with a stern glance. "Prove it."

He flushed slightly, but then smirked. "Fenris?"

"All right, all right. Not all elves frolic."

Just then, Laretha brought in a tray with a pitcher of lemonade, glasses, and a plate of fruit. Orsino poured them each a glass as he asked, nonchalantly, "Well, what about Anders?"

Lise flushed and looked uncomfortable, and he winced inwardly. A little voice inside whispered, "_Are you jealous_?" He silenced it. _She says she's not interested, and I trust her._ The voice continued. "_Perhaps not in _him_, but you know there's someone. And someday she'll have to get married._" He pushed the thought away, resolutely. What choice did he have, anyhow?

He let none of this show, however, as he brought their glasses over, handed her one, then sat beside her. "That bad, eh?"

Hawke took a long drink and then nodded. "For some reason he can't seem to decide whether he'd rather spend his time spouting off from his 'revolutionary manifesto' to win my support, or sit in the corner of my library and moon at me. Maker." She pressed the cool glass, beaded with water, against her forehead and sighed. "I thought he'd get over it, but I guess not, since nothing's really been settled..." She sighed. "I care for him dearly, but he's too intense. It's like his life is some melodrama being played out on a stage, and I've never been interested in being one of the actors. I'll make do with a bit part in the background, thankyouverymuch."

He chuckled. "That's probably sensible." He paused to take a drink. "But then, I thought all young women enjoyed a dramatic courtship – or am I too old, off in my secluded tower, to know what's in style?"

It was gratifying when she gave a quick, derisive snort. "You're not that old, Orsino. And I'm not all that young. I _am_ almost thirty, you know."

"I still find that hard to believe."

She flushed prettily. "Thank you," she murmured, then sighed. "Drama is all well and good if it's real and subdued. I certainly want something more than 'Lemme buy you a drink at the Hanged Man.' But knowing Anders, he'd manage to make a production out of having _mutton_ on _fish_ day."

The image of the apostate glaring at an inoffensive haunch of meat was so amusing that Orsino had to hide his mouth as he laughed, and Lise's lips twitched in a smirk.

"When I saw him walking towards the estate – thank the Maker for for upper windows and back doors – I escaped into the garden and told Bodahn to make it known that I was busy weeding and would be unavailable to visitors."

She glanced ruefully at the faint green stains on the bottom of the simple lavender gown she was wearing. "I probably should have changed first – not that it mattered. I love my roses but they're not really the flower one wants to drown in when one is bitter and feeling tired of romance."

The weariness in her voice tugged at his heart as he looked at her, mentally searching for a way to cheer her up. He could never compete for her affections, of course, but he was pleased enough that _he_ was who she turned to when she was feeling distressed that he felt he could at least meet his other disappointments with equanimity. After a moment, he smiled, making up his mind.

He stood and offered her his arm. She looked puzzled, but took it. "Orsino?"

"Shush, and trust me, Lise." He smiled down at her and she tentatively smiled back.

The First Enchanter led her out of his study and down some winding hallways. After a few short minutes, he opened a door and ushered her into the Circle's greenhouse. It was a large room, the size of the main courtyard out at the docks, and the ceiling was fitted with crystal-clear panes of glass. One could assume that when the Gallows was still a prison, this was yet another courtyard, open to the elements. But even though the walls were of stone and only one side had any windows – also looking towards the bay – it was large enough that at midday most of the room would have full sun.

Lise gasped with delight. "Orsino, it's lovely!"

He smiled, happy to see her spirits recovering slightly, and bowed. "Thank you, my dear. I'm glad you like it. I hoped you would since we have so few roses-" they shared a laugh "-and I have wanted to bring you here ever since the plants lost their winter dormancy."

She began to wander up and down the rows and through the winding paths, examining the magical, medicinal, and decorative plants with the keen interest of an accomplished gardener. He followed, pointing out exotic specimens and answering her questions, and before they quite knew it the afternoon had passed.

Hawke sighed with satisfaction, turning back at the door for a final look. She had a small basket of cuttings on one arm and a fragrant bouquet in her hand. "Orsino, I don't know how to thank you. You always know just what to do no matter what kind of mood I'm in."

He blushed a little and bowed over her hand, hoping she wouldn't see it in the glow of the setting sun. "Lise, we are friends, and being able to repay you in some small way after all of the wonderful evenings I've spent at your estate is more than gratifying. Please, my dear. I am honoured that you come to me when you are feeling unhappy or distressed, and I hope you always will."

She smiled, dimpling slightly. "I will, Orsino, as long as you promise to do the same."

He straightened and looked into her eyes for a moment, then nodded with a simple smile. "I will. Thank you, _lethallan_."

Lise laughed. "One of the few elven words I know, thanks to Merrill."

"Who frolics."

"She _does_! Anyhow. I always meant to ask her to teach me more, but she always distracts me."

"By frolicking?" Lise punched Orsino's shoulder, lightly, and laughed again.

He smiled back at her. "Then perhaps I can teach you some, one evening or another? My elven is rusty, but I do remember the basics."

She dimpled again. "I would enjoy that, Orsino. Thank you, _lethallan_."

"_Lethall_in."

"I _said_ that."

He shook his head, laughing. "No, you said _lethall_an. I am not female, my dear."

Hawke blushed. "Oh. I guess I do need lessons."

* * *

><p>Lise was humming as she walked through the front door. Carefully placing a damp cloth over her cuttings so that they would be fresh for planting in the morning, she set them near the kitchen and then found a vase for her flowers. As she carried it upstairs to her room, Anders came out of the study and she jumped.<p>

"Those aren't from your garden," he said, frowning. "Where did you get them?"

She frowned back. "They're from the Circle greenhouse. Anders, how long have you been here?"

His eyes narrowed. "Bodahn told me you'd be gardening all day, so I left and came back after a few hours. I didn't realize he meant you'd be gardening with the First Enchanter."

Hawke sighed. "Anders, what's wrong?"

He crossed his arms. "What's wrong is that you claim that you want no company, you want to be alone, but then you hare off to the Gallows as soon as you can. What do you _see_ in him? Do you just appreciate that he likes to see my kind subjugated?"

Very carefully, Lise finished the trip upstairs so that she could set the vase of flowers on the table beside her bed. She knew that if she let herself, she'd throw it at him and come bedtime she'd regret not being able to fall asleep to the scent of fresh flowers, especially ones that Orsino had given her. Just as carefully she walked back downstairs, standing squarely before him. Never mind that she was several inches shorter than he – the look in her eyes was enough to make even him, in his sullen anger, wince.

"Anders, how many times have I defended you when someone – usually Fenris – snipes at you?"

He frowned, looking away. "Enough."

"Exactly. I stand up for my friends, and Orsino is one of my friends. We've already _had_ this conversation. I'm _sorry_ that you can't get along with him, but you've got to stop acting angry because I _do_! Look at this! Look at us right now! How often do we argue? Why do _you_ think I prefer his company?"

Anders threw up his hands, sitting down on one of the benches in the foyer, the look on his face one one of extreme misery. "I can't _help_ it, Lise. I see you with him and it tears me apart. I'm not stupid. I see how you two are with each other. If it was anyone – _anyone_ – other than him!"

She blinked, looking at him in confusion. "I'm not really sure what you're talking about, but yes, yes I do care for him. No, I know it can't ever go anywhere. But Anders... that's my own choice. Why do you hate so much that it's him? He's a good man, no matter what you think of his position."

He put his head in his hands. "Because it was so much easier pretending that you couldn't love me because I was a mage. Now, knowing that you love _him_, I can only think that it's because of Justice."

Lise sighed, sitting down next to him. "Anders... my dear friend. I'm sorry. I don't love you, and I never have. But... if it's Justice, it's not because _of_ Justice. It's just... I don't understand you the way that I should. Your vengeance... I can't connect with it. I don't care about Justice being part of you, but it _is_ the anger he gives you that puts so much distance between us." She'd put her arm around his shoulders by this point, and he turned.

Looking into her eyes, his own full of pain, he asked, quietly. "So there's no chance?"

She frowned, tears in her eyes, and shook her head. "I'm sorry, Anders..."

He buried his face in her shoulder, and she hugged him for a little while, but after a few minutes he pushed himself away. "I have to go, Hawke. I can't- I can't do this right now. If there are any emergencies, send for me, but otherwise, please leave me alone for a while."

"I'm so sorry, Anders, but... I understand." She stood, miserably watching him go. After a few minutes of staring at the door after it closed behind him, she turned. Her eyes flitted from her bedroom, to the study – where she'd intended to pass her evening – to the basket of cuttings by the door. Her mind made up, she grabbed it and ran out into the garden, into the twilight.

She worked until the moon was high in the sky, until she was sweating, aching, and weary. Only then did she go back inside, to take a long bath, drink some of Sebastian's excellent Starkhaven scotch, and fall asleep.

* * *

><p>"Well, Blondie won't be coming tonight. You finally told him, eh?"<p>

Hawke, sitting next to Fenris the next afternoon in the Hanged Man, winced as Varric came up to the table carrying everyone's drinks. Isabela, already halfway through her bottle of whisky, stopped with the cup halfway to her mouth.

"I'll be damned. You finally told Anders where to put that staff, eh?"

Lise gave her a look. "Not exactly, but I did tell him that I couldn't return his feelings."

"Same thing."

"No, it's _not_. After all, one has a lot more attitude than the other. Maker knows I didn't need to rub more salt into his wounds."

Fenris leaned forward. "Honestly, I'm glad. Hopefully he'll _go away_ now."

"That's not nice either, Fen. You know he's still my friend. But he did ask me to leave him alone for a while, and I'll respect that." The elf shrugged.

Wicked Grace that evening wasn't as much fun as usual, and they ended quite early as Isabela wandered off, grumbling, to find other trouble to get into. Merrill and Aveline hadn't been able to make it, Anders was of course absent, and after Izzy left Fenris got up to leave. "Orana hasn't been feeling well, so I'm going to stop by an apothecary on the way home."

Lise frowned. "If you need any herbs, send one of the boys. I just got a good supply of rare ones from the Circle greenhouse." He nodded, and left her and Varric to themselves.

The dwarf picked up his mug, drained it, then stood up. "You look like you need a good walk-and-talk, Beautiful. Want me to see you home?"

She nodded. "If you'd like, Varric. It's early, we could probably play some Atashi, if you like."

"No Robes tonight?"

She shook her head. "Meredith's had him on call today – something to do with templar inspections – and he sent word earlier that he wouldn't be available for today, at least. Perhaps a few days." She sighed.

When they'd gotten out into the dim almost-twilight, he turned. "I'm surprised Blondie actually said something to you. We all figured he'd just spend the next few years moping."

Hawke sighed. "That was my fault, partly. I avoided him yesterday afternoon because I _didn't_ want to deal with the mooning, and spent it with Orsino, instead." She couldn't resist a soft smile. "Well, he came back before I got home – asked me where I'd been – it started to turn into an accusation session and then he just came out with it. I think it hurt him the most that not only did I not return his feelings, but I have feelings for _another_ mage."

Varric sighed. "Poor Blondie. Did you have to tell him about Robes?"

"I didn't. He accused me of it, and I wasn't going to lie. That would have just made things worse. And then he asked me if there was _any_ chance, and I had to answer no." They both sighed again and the rest of the walk to Hightown passed in silence.

When they got inside, Bodahn met her at the door. "Welcome home, messere, Serah Tethras. There's a new message for you there upon the desk."

Lise raised an eyebrow. "At this hour? It's not from the Gallows, is it?"

"No, messere. It looks like it has the Viscount's crest."

Frowning, she picked up the letter and broke the seal, not bothering to settle down. After a few lines, she sighed, groaning. "Just what I expected. Are you up for a walk to the Keep tonight, Varric?"

He nodded. "Of course, Hawke." He grinned. "This time I won't have to rely on you or Choir-boy for the second-hand news!"

She laughed. "Varric, you're incorrigible."

He bowed. "At your service, madam."

* * *

><p>The two of them hurried through the centre of Hightown, and in a few minutes were climbing the steps into the Viscount's Keep. Walking through the halls, she noticed that there were more guardsmen than usual bustling around and more nobles whispering behind fans and hands. She looked at Varric, and he shrugged. "I haven't heard anything new." She shrugged back and they made their way towards the Viscount's suites.<p>

Seneschal Bran pursed his lips as he let them in, but Hawke ignored him. She'd had enough dealings with the Viscount over the past few years that she really didn't care what Bran thought; he could resent her all he wanted. Most of it came down to the fact that she'd refused his son's offer of marriage, twice. As she walked into the inner office, Viscount Dumar turned to her. He looked horrible, and it was all she could do to keep a polite face as she nodded to him.

"Serah Hawke. I am afraid I need your help again. You remember my son, Seamus?"

She nodded. She did, indeed, remember Seamus. He had reminded her at the time of Anders – not crazy for mages, but for qunari. She could tell that she wasn't going to like what came next.

"The life you saved, he is bent on throwing away. He came to me, again, trying to get me to change my stance on the qunari and-" he sighed. "We argued. It is no surprise to anyone. And when he realized he could not get me to go against my city in favour of a group of nearly-hostile heretical giants, he stormed out."

Lise merely nodded. After he'd taken a drink from a glass of wine, he continued. "He never came back last night, or this morning – and this afternoon I received word that he has turned himself over to the Arishok; he has converted to the Qun and they now claim him as _viddathari._"

Varric whistled and Hawke put her forehead in her hand. "Ohh, Seamus, always the politic one, aren't you?"

The Vicount winced, but nodded. "Indeed, Serah Hawke, you can see what position this puts me in. Not only do have to worry about the political ramifications of this, but..." he gave her an agonized look that she'd seen many times on her mother's face. "I just want my son back. Can you help me?"

She nodded, slowly. "Viscount, I don't know if I can do anything, in the end. If this is _truly_ Seamus' wish, then I cannot force him to come back and the qunari certainly will not allow me to, in any case. But I will go, and I will speak to him."

He sighed deeply. "I understand, Serah. I appreciate anything that you _can_ do."

"If you do not mind, however, I would like to go in the early morning. Arriving this late would not be polite _or_ politic, and would only show our desperation. I would also like to spend the evening studying what I can of the Qun in case I need to make an effective argument." He nodded, then turned away, and she and Varric took their leave.

Outside the Keep, they stopped for a moment and Varric turned to Lise. "People certainly love giving you the impossible tasks, don't they?"

She groaned. "At least it'll be better than having to think about Anders. Come on. Let's head back and brainstorm, and see if Fen can leave Orana for a little bit. Perhaps bring her along so mother can take care of her. You'll come tomorrow, right?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, Beautiful."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Lethallin; Lethallan<strong> (_leth-ah-LEEN; leth-ah-LAHN_): Casual reference used for someone with whom one is familiar. Lethallin is used for males, while lethallan is used for females._

_**Viddathari**: A convert to the Qun._

_As always, the characters belong to Bioware, I just play with them._


	15. Betrayal and Loss

_The action is picking up and the next few chapters will be pretty sad/angsty. I can't help it, this is DA2! I cried so hard when I wrote the last part of this... but it needs to be done. There will be angst, but there will also be good things ahead for the hero and heroine once they get through it._

* * *

><p><em>Ch. 15, in which a lot of very bad, very sad things happen.<em>

"He has chosen the way of the Qun, and as such, is _viddathari_. There will be no more discussion."

Hawke sighed, her head hurting from the dust and the glare in the qunari compound. She'd been up until the early hours with Fenris and Varric, talking about possible arguments that _might_ sway Seamus or the Arishok; she really hadn't expected to be able to convince either of them but she'd given the Viscount her word. This morning, she'd been "debating" with the Arishok for the last thirty minutes – it was all well and interesting, except that every time she'd gotten even a potential point across, he refuted it with something along the lines of, "He is_ viddathari_, that is the way of the Qun." _This is why I hate the Qun. It's just a fancy way of saying 'because I said so' over and over again._

However, she knew the Arishok's limits, and when he said "there will be no more discussion," he meant it, and she wasn't going to push it. Instead, she nodded. "I understand, Arishok. May I at least speak with the boy before I go? I made a promise to his father, and I will keep it."

The huge qunari narrowed his eyes. "You are not one of those who plays games, Hawke. Why do you ask me this?"

She blinked. "I'm afraid I don't understand, Arishok."

"Why would your Viscount send a message requesting to meet the son as well as send you here to speak with him? I assumed he just wished for you to petition me where the boy could not interfere."

Lise felt the familiar sensation of _things going wrong_ settle in the pit of her stomach. "Where are they meeting?"

"At your Chantry."

She felt herself growing pale. "_Mother Petrice._" Fenris swore at her side – in qunari, she assumed, since she saw the Arishok blink. She didn't even think to say goodbye; she was already running as fast as she could.

Mother Petrice – _Sister_ Petrice when they'd first met her – was someone Lise had dealt with several times, enjoying each encounter successively less. An overzealous member of the Chantry, she'd been involved in nearly every qunari dispute they'd had to resolve; her goal was to provoke holy war with the qunari because she felt that it would be the surest way to prove herself in the Maker's eyes and earn her seat at his side. Lise hated self-proclaimed martyrs. If she was involved in Seamus' situation, it could grow deadly very quickly – the Mother had no qualms in wasting as many lives as she needed to further her goal.

In a very few minutes they were racing up the Chantry steps, and as they burst into the vestibule Lise barely had enough time to sense that things were _too_ quiet when she heard a strangled cry and a soft thud from the altar. Rushing up to the alcove, she saw Seamus, dead upon the ground with his throat slit, and Petrice standing over him. She smiled - a feline smile of satisfaction - upon seeing Hawke, and then raised her voice.

"_Faithful_!" she cried. The doors along the hallways and sides of the room burst open and several templars along with a handful of civilians with swords and bows came walking into the room. "_These_ are the agents for the heathen qunari. _These_ are the ones who would see the city given to the invading savages. They plot against your Viscount and your Chantry – slay them and be recognized in the sight of the Maker!"

Lise reached out to grab Petrice's arm, but the woman had moved back towards the upper stairs, still smiling. Before she could follow, the first templar made it to the edge of the alcove and Hawke whirled to the others.

"_Don't_ kill unless you have to. Disable them, but by Andraste _don't_ kill them!" She felt sick; she hated it when they had to fight civilians. Trained soldiers were one thing, but she'd always despised those who used civilians to shield themselves.

Then, the templar fell upon her, and she found herself fighting for her life. She parried his sword with her hunting knife; out of the corner of her eye she could see Fenris backhanding people and landing pommel-blows when he could. There were several people down already, screaming, with crossbow bolts through their kneecaps.

She'd just gotten a hand behind the templar's shield and was attempting to push him away – it was not working so well, as he was a full hundred pounds heavier than she even before you added in the full-plate – when a cry of "_Stop it this instant!_" rang through the room. Everyone froze, and she took that chance to shove the templar away, rolling out from under his grasp and coming to her feet next to Fenris.

Grand Cleric Elthina was walking down the stairs with a smirking Petrice at her side. "You see, Your Grace! The Viscount's son came to repent and was killed by these qunari sympathizers! Even now, they spill blood in the house of the Maker, and-"

"_You_ killed him!" Lise interrupted. "_You_ sent a letter, claiming that it was from the Viscount – what, misusing his seal as well as the Grand Cleric's, now? - and when Seamus came here to meet his father, you _killed_ him. All to fuel your _damn_ war with the qunari!"

"You _see,_ Your Grace – she even tries to spread lies about-"

"_Silence._" The word was not loud, but no one dared disobey. Elthina looked at Hawke. "Are you here on behalf of the Viscount?"

"Yes, Your Grace."

Elthina turned to Petrice. "Why have you done this, my child?"

Petrice turned pale. "These qunari need to be taught a lesson, Your Grace! They deny the Maker, and-"

"And you lessen him even as you speak. Do not claim to speak his words when you do not understand his message, Petrice. Andraste did not volunteer for the flames."

Before the Mother could say another word, Elthina turned back to Hawke. "Please, fetch the Viscount. The sisters will see to the wounded, he needs to see to his son." She turned back to the stairs. "The Mother has erred in her judgement and as such will answer to the law."

"_Grand Cleric_?" Petrice was frantic.

As Lise turned go, the front door of the Chantry opened and a Sten – one of the higher-ranking qunari officers – walked in. He took in the scene – Seamus lying dead, Petrice to one corner, Hawke and her companions walking towards him; he raised a massive longbow and without a word, shot Petrice in the chest. She gasped, falling to her knees, and he put a second arrow through her head. Elthina closed her eyes in sorrow, beginning to pray; Hawke looked at the Sten.

"We do not abandon our own." The qunari turned and left without another word, and Lise closed her eyes, sick at the senselessness of the situtation. She then squared her shoulders and left for the Keep.

* * *

><p>It was late afternoon before they managed to get away from the Keep. The Viscount was devastated at the loss of his son, and Lise could not stop thinking about Carver. The three walked the short distance to the Hawke estate, Fenris accompanying her so that he could check on Orana and Varric because he wanted to dig through the library.<p>

Coming through the front door, she could hear her Uncle Gamlen's sharp, nasally voice coming from the foyer. "Uncle?" she asked, stepping into the room.

He turned to her. "Where's Leandra, is she ill?"

Lise blinked. "What do you mean?"

"She never showed up for our weekly lunch today, and she _never_ misses it. She didn't send a note, either – and you know your mother!" It was true; Leandra was the queen of notes – she sent thank you notes for every little thing, and if she felt she'd even be a half-hour late she'd send a note apologizing.

Bodahn spoke up. "Well, Mistress Amell received those flowers right after you left, Mistress Hawke. And then she went out. She seemed quite happy." He pointed towards a vase on the mantle.

It was filled with yellow lilies with a ruby throat and stamen.

Lise's face blanched. "_Dear Maker._" Fenris, at her side, grabbed her arm to keep her from falling over. She turned to face them, Gamlen forgotten for the moment. "We've got to find Aveline and then..." She buried her face in her hands. "Fen, I don't know what to _do_!"

Fenris put both hands on her shoulders, shaking them hard. "Hawke. _Hawke_. Look at me!" She raised her head. "You have _got_ to distance yourself. You can't fall apart right now – your mother needs you!"

The look she gave him was stricken, but she knew he was right. Taking a deep breath, she wracked her brain for Aveline's patrol route. "Hightown... no, she leaves Hightown as a reward... it's not the docks... _the alienage_. She's in Lowtown – let's go."

Leaving Gamlen behind, confused, the three of them fled the estate, heading towards Lowtown at a steady run. Hawke kept the pace going, driving them ahead, and behind her back Fenris and Varric exchanged worried glances. They found the Guard-Captain in the middle of the alienage, talking to Merrill.

As soon as Lise gasped out some of her story, Aveline took her shoulder firmly and steered the party into Merrill's house. She forced Hawke into a chair and pushed a glass of water into her hand. "Drink that, catch your breath, and tell me exactly what you know."

She followed Aveline's orders and by the time she'd finished her story, her voice was calm. She'd slipped back into "professional" mode, and at the moment the others knew that it wasn't her mother on the line, it was just someone else she knew needed rescuing. The Guard-Captain nodded and stepped outside, blowing her whistle. Within minutes she had all of the guard patrolling Lowtown assembled, whom she then sent out to search the district and alert the others in Hightown and the Docks.

Once Aveline was sure that Lise was able to get back on her feet, she turned to Merrill. "You know something about blood magic – do what you can to see if you can find anyone working it right now. Hawke, Fenris, Varric – you'll come with me. We don't know Leandra's path, but we can do our best to search. Maybe we'll see something."

They left the alienage to Merrill and began to comb the streets, checking corners and alleys for anything. An hour passed, then two; the light was almost gone when Lise saw something glint in a crack between two paving-stones. Darting forward, she dug at it for a moment, then held up her find to the others. It was one of the earrings she'd given her mother for her birthday that year.

Looking around, she realized that they were in the foundry district, only a building away from the abandoned forge where they'd found Ninette and Mharen's remains so long ago. Hawke pushed forward, taking the lead again. "There _must_ be something we missed!"

She picked the lock – Aveline didn't even frown, which showed how worried she was – and everyone winced at the smell when they walked in. It was the tang of old metal, dust, and burnt mixed with must and something Lise didn't recognize. Aveline stood still for a moment, then nodded. "I think it's quicklime. I remember it from my father's smithy... but that almost smells fresh."

The four of them began to root around, poking through piles of metal, broken crates, greasy rags. Suddenly, Fenris gave a yell. "_Hawke_!" Within seconds they were standing around a pile of metal scraps that the elf had shoved aside to reveal a trapdoor which, by the dust and grease on the hinges, appeared to have been used very recently. Lise nodded to him, and he pulled it open, and they stared into a semi-lit tunnel. Aveline made as if to pause for a moment, but Lise was already descending the ladder. The Guard-Captain shook her head, but climbed in after Varric and Fenris.

The smell of quicklime was nearly overpowering by this time. They'd barely gone a score of steps down the tunnel when Hawke saw, to the side, what looked like a body with white hair. She screeched, "_Mother!_" and darted forward – but it was not Leandra, it was Alessa.

Aveline shook her head. "Her family never even reported her missing – they were probably too afraid of more scandal. How disgusting." She pulled a cloth lying nearby up over the body, but Lise was already moving ahead down the tunnel, as fast as she could.

After dodging a few handmade spike traps, they found themselves in a crude room, where the tunnel had been widened out to about triple-width. There was a desk and table, strewn with books, a cot in the corner, and a bookshelf with a painting on top, with lit candles scattered in front almost as if at a shrine. Lise blinked, and Varric whistled. "That face looks like mama Hawke, doesn't it?"

Looking around the room, she saw that many of the books were on magical theory, some of them slightly questionable in their ideas, and several that she recognized as not being accessable to any but the higher-ranking mages in a Circle. She blinked. "I don't-" but then shook her head. "We have to find mother. We can come back to this later."

They pushed on, and in the other side of the room the tunnel shrank again, though not for long. Another score of paces brought them into a room, longer than the first, but not as wide. At the far end, a hunched figure in a dirty, tattered mage's robe was leaning over a figure in a white gown, wearing a white veil over her – its – face. Lise began to run forward, but stopped dead when the mage stood, smiling as he walked to meet her.

"My dear Elisebeth. Your mother knew you'd be coming for her. And here you are, just in time to see her in her new glory – for I have touched the face of the Maker, and I have succeeded!"

Hawke almost fainted when the figure in white stood shakily, the veil slid backwards, and she saw her mother's head stitched to an unfamiliar body. There were seams running down the back of her hands, and the entire thing was bone-chillingly _wrong_. But the look in Leandra's eyes was one of fear, and when Lise turned to the mage, he was still smiling.

"Rejoice, my dear. Your mother is part of something so much bigger than you could ever imagine! I knew I'd recognize her sweet face as soon as I saw it, and-"

He got no farther, staggering back as her throwing dagger hit him in the throat, blood pouring down the front of his robes. She didn't even hesitate, following the thrown dagger with her hunting knife, which she drove through his heart and twisted _up_ until she heard the ribs snap. She turned away, feeling chilled and distant, just as the skeletons and demons began to pour into the room.

None of the party was in the mood for games, and they cut their way through the horde in double-quick time. Hawke hadn't even touched her bow – she was slicing through fiends and undead alike with a cold, methodical rhythm that made Fenris catch Varric's eye and frown. Bones snapped, spirits screamed, and her expression never changed.

Then, as the last skeleton fell to the floor and the room grew silent, she heard a shuffling over her shoulder. Turning, she saw Leandra doing her best to walk towards her daughter, who then threw down her blades and ran forward, catching her just as she tripped.

"_Mother_," Lise gasped out. "Hold on, we'll get out out of here, we'll get you to Anders, he'll be able to help you, and-"

Leandra shook her head; she started to speak, but Lise had to lean forward to hear her words. "My dear, it's too late, but-" here she tried to raise her hand, barely touching Lise's face before it fell back to her side. "My love, I knew you'd come. That man would have kept me here, like _this_ – but you freed me. I will see your father again, and Carver, but- what of you? You'll be all alone..."

The cold demeanour melted as soon as Leandra touched Lise's face, and her daughter shook her head. Tears were already streaming down her face, but she forced a smile. "Don't worry- don't worry about me, mother. I'll be fine, I always have been."

"My dearest girl, always so strong... know that I love you, and I always will-" Leandra's head dropped back and at this, the light faded from her eyes. Lise gathered the poor, stitched body to her chest and began to sob.

Aveline, who was crying herself, touched both Varric and Fenris on the arms, nodding back towards the tunnel. "Let's clear up," she mouthed, and they nodded. They went into the main room, and Varric and Aveline gathered up the books. "Hawke will probably want to look through these. They may have something in them about Leandra."

After they'd finished, they returned to find Hawke walking towards the tunnel, staggering slightly as she carried her mother's body. Fenris stepped forward to take it, but she shook her head; the only time she relinquished it was so that he could help her up the ladder back into the foundry.

* * *

><p>The rest of the night was a numb whirl to Lise, who couldn't remember much of anything afterwards. They'd gotten back to the estate – Fenris had seen to the body while Aveline forced Hawke to take a hot bath, drink some brandy, and get into bed. She was only able to sleep for a few hours, though, and when dawn rose she was already lying awake, staring at the window.<p>

Another few hours passed, and eventually she got out of bed and wandered into the library. She saw the stack of unfamiliar books, with a smaller volume that looked like a journal sitting on top of them. There was a note from Varric, and it said,

"_Beautiful, we pulled these out of the foundry. Aveline thought you might want to look through them for answers – I think the book on top is a journal. But don't force yourself. If you need to wait, do so. You know we all love you and we'll all be by later to see you._"

She shuddered, but the need to _know_ was too strong, so she picked up the journal and began to read. It was the diary of a mage named Quentin, from Starkhaven; apparently he'd been married in secret, and his wife had died young. He was never quite right after that, spending all of his time in search of the fabled philosopher's stone; he'd escaped about six years previously and had made his way to Kirkwall where he felt he'd have a better chance at success.

It was then that the entries began showing less sense and a little more madness. Apparently he'd moved away from the philosopher's stone idea and started playing with blood magic; he started searching for women who resembled his dead wife in some small way, killing them for their body parts while enslaving their souls to inhabit the body. By the time Lise got to the end, she felt sick.

She'd just turned the last page when a faded, folded letter fell out onto her lap. It looked to be several years old; the date on the top was from before she'd even gotten to Kirkwall, but she barely noticed this once she saw the writing, so very familiar to her. She gasped.

"_My dear Quentin,_

_I am fascinated by what you tell me of your research for the Philosopher's Stone. I am not sure I agree that it can bring Penny back, but if you do manage a breakthrough who _knows_ what good can be achieved?_

_Just be careful. Kirkwall is no friend to mages, and you might do better going back to Starkhaven. I am sending you these books as you requested, but unless something dire happens it would be best if you did not try to contact me by letter again; it will make it more likely that one of us may get caught. Good luck._

_Best regards,_

_Orsino"_

* * *

><p><em>The characters belong to bioware, I just borrow them<em>.


	16. The Distance Between Two People

_More angst. I meant to draw this out into more than one chapter, but I just can't do it. It's too hard to write about Leandra, and it's hard to put Orsino and Hawke through so much. So we're rapidly approaching more action, more drama, less angst. Please feel free to review - the tone of this story has changed a bit and I'd like to know if people are still enjoying it. But there will certainly be fluff and amusement in chapters to come._

* * *

><p><em>Ch. 16, in which the heroine and hero are miserable.<em>

Lise stared at the letter for over a minute while she tried to comprehend just why Orsino would have been writing to her mother's murderer. Her chest felt tight, her head hurt, and she felt more than ever like she needed to be sick. She also could not sit still; she tried pacing the floor, but she needed answers. Going back to her room, she slipped into her leathers – donning them was second nature, and there was no way she could do anything other than by habit at the moment.

Within the half hour she was walking through the courtyard of the Gallows, carrying the journal with the letter tucked up inside it. She forced herself to be calm as she knocked on Orsino's study door – she knew him to be an early riser, so she did not worry that he would not be up; he opened the door, his expression showing extreme concern as soon as he saw who his visitor was.

"Lise! My dearest girl, come in. I am so sorry... Aveline reported to Meredith last night and I heard all about it. But she said it was late before she'd gotten you to bed, so I was going to wait until after lunch to come visit you." He'd drawn her into the study by this point, and had his hands on her shoulders, studying her face. She winced when she saw his eyes, so full of genuine care for her; she didn't want to ask, but she had to. She pulled away.

"It was a mage named Quentin. From Starkhaven."

Orsino made a strangled noise and she looked back at him. "Lise, are you certain?"

She nodded, looking as if she was about to cry. "I found his journal, and I read it. This was inside." She handed him the note, and watched his face turn snow-white. He sat down. "Orsino, when did you know? When did you know about the lilies and _not tell me_?"

He looked frantic. "I never did, Lise – you have to believe me! He was a friend from many years ago – when his wife died and he escaped, he contacted me and I helped him. But I'd forgotten about the lilies – that they were Penny's favourite – and it wasn't until you mentioned an escaped mage from Starkhaven that I even had any _suspicions._ And even then, this letter was from the last time I talked to him, and he was looking for the Philosopher's Stone! _Maker_ – when I knew Quentin he was the most gentle person you could ever meet. I didn't think there was any way he could have been a mass-murdering blood mage! When you found those lilies at Gascard's estate, I thought it _had _to be the link." He put his head into his hands, and she could see him shaking.

Hawke sank into a chair and started to cry. "Orsino, if you'd just told me... even if you didn't know where he was, I could have looked for him... I could have looked for something..." She sobbed. "And mother would still be _alive_." She sat in front of his desk and cried for several minutes while he just watched her, the horror and pain in his green eyes nearly as strong as hers.

When she looked up at him, he shook his head. "I have no words, Lise. I cannot deny anything you said. If I hadn't been so worried that mentioning Quentin would bring Meredith's wrath upon myself and the Circle, I could have told you, and you would have been able to track him." He bowed his head and just sat there, staring at the letter on his desk.

After a few minutes, she stood up. "This journal is full of blood rituals. There are things in here I cannot even fathom – creatures I've never heard of. I have to give it to Meredith, in case there's anything in here the templars need to be aware of." Orsino just looked at her, and she shook her head. "There is nothing in here mentioning his receiving any help from anyone in Kirkwall, or any connections with anyone here."

Orsino shook his head, and slowly handed her the letter. "Then give her this. I killed your mother as surely as Quentin did."

She looked down at the faded paper, then at him, and her face crumpled. She walked over to the fireplace, dropped the letter into the grate, and held it down with the poker until there was nothing left but ash. "I will not give you to Meredith, Orsino. Even if you are guilty, it's through neglect and ignorance, not intentional cruelty. I do not hand my friends over to the enemy."

Hawke walked to the door and opened it, stepping into the hallway. Before she closed it behind her, however, she looked back at the First Enchanter, sitting with his face in his hands. "Good-bye, Orsino." He didn't even have a chance to respond before she'd left.

After staring at the door for a minute, he closed his eyes. "_Dareth shiral, __emma vhenan,_" he whispered. He knew that he would likely never see her again, except in passing.

* * *

><p>Her audience with Meredith was mercifully brief. The Knight-Commander pursed her lips over the journal, but seemed to believe Lise when she assured her that she'd found no evidence of conspiracy – that he looked to be a lone madman who wooed women until he'd gained their trust, then killed them. She then proceeded to commiserate with Lise over her mother's death, and that was harder to take.<p>

All the while, her heart beat with painful rapidity and she couldn't stop the thought that spun through her head, over and over again - "mother will never come home again." The words hurt, but she still couldn't comprehend the meanings. She knew that night would fall, she'd hear someone pass the door, and look up expecting to see Leandra. And knowing that the same would be said for Orsino was something she wouldn't even allow herself to contemplate.

When she got home, most of her companions were waiting for her. Isabela – uncomfortable with such situations but still concerned for Hawke – gave her a long hug, a bottle of extra-strong whiskey, and then slipped out the back door before anyone saw her cry. Aveline, Merrill, and Orana had no such compunctions; the four of them sat in a group on Lise's bed and cried, hugging, for a while as Fenris and Varric sat in the study, feeling uncomfortable as they tried to play a game of Atashi.

Sebastian came by after a few hours, and at that time Aveline and Merrill left to go home. He sat with her for a while, although she was glad that he didn't try to give her a sermon on death – instead they just talked about Leandra, and her good works, and how and when Hawke would want her service to be. Finally, Varric shooed him out. "Time for Beautiful to get some rest." He also bid Lise farewell – Orana and Fenris were going to stay for a week or so until the estate could settle down – and Fenris sat outside her bedroom door to keep away visitors; they'd already had a few busybodies trying to stick their noses in and while they were allowed to come in and leave notes, he didn't want anyone to disturb her.

After several hours of _no_ noise from her room, he began to grow uneasy. He knew she wasn't asleep – he couldn't even hear her rhythmic breathing. He stuck his head in. "Hawke?" he whispered.

"Fenris?"

"You should sleep."

"I'm trying."

"Would you like some brandy?"

"No thank you, Fenris."

He sighed at the pale tone of her voice and shut her door again. Just then, there was a very light tapping at the front door. Frowning, he opened it, and nearly shut it again when he saw Anders on the doorstep. "_Go away,_" he hissed.

Anders put his hand into the crack of the door in time to hiss back at the elf, "Let me _in_! She's my friend, too." Fenris, remembering what Hawke had said several days earlier, glared and stepped back.

"I'll let you in if you can get her to sleep."

Anders frowned. "Is she very badly off?"

Fenris shrugged, finding it odd to be having a civil conversation with the mage. "What do you expect? She saw her mother die after being stitched to other women's body parts."

Anders winced. "I'll look in on her, then. See if she'll let me use a sleep spell."

He opened her door, and carefully stuck his head into the darkened room. "Hawke?"

"Anders?"

"Yes, dear. Can I come in?"

"Please do."

He closed the door quietly behind him since the banked fire gave off enough of a glow, and he didn't want to disturb her with too much light. He made his way over to the bed, and she sat up. He sat beside her and gave her a long, tight hug, not saying anything, and after a while he heard her sniffle a few times. He winced. "I'm so sorry, Hawke. I'm sorry I wasn't there."

She shook her head. "It's all right, Anders. Mother was right – it was too late. Nothing except more blood magic could have saved her. Oh _Anders_... if only I'd... if only..."

"Shhh, Hawke. You can't keep saying that. The biggest 'if only' isn't your fault – 'if only that bastard hadn't been a bastard.' You can't keep blaming yourself. Your mother wouldn't want that, you know."

She sobbed, burying her face in his shoulder again. "I know, Anders. But I can't stop, not just now."

He nodded. "I know, Hawke. I know. Now... will you let me put you to sleep?"

Lise nodded, looking very tired. "I want to sleep, but I can't. That would be wonderful."

Anders stood up, and tucked her in quite gently – she was reminded of his mannerisms from when she watched him in his clinic. Then, he put a hand on her head, and murmured a few words. She felt the drowsiness wash over her, and before she succumbed, she gave him a faint smile. "Thank you, Anders."

When she'd fallen asleep, he stood watching her for a few minutes, and then in a familiar gesture, leaned over to kiss her forehead. He frowned, thinking of the First Enchanter and wondering, if he cared so much for Hawke, where he was.

On his way out, he stopped next to Fenris's seat. "She's out, and should sleep until morning. I've got some potions that will help her sleep – better than that bottle I see on the table that I'll bet Isabela left – if you'll send one of the runners, I'll get you a bag of them. Take care of her, Fenris. I probably won't be back for a while unless she sends for me."

It was on the elf's tongue to say, "_Good riddance, I hope she never does,_" but then he stopped, remembering that for the night, Anders had done more for Hawke than the rest of them combined. He nodded. "I'll send a boy, and I'll tell her what you said."

* * *

><p>Lise was resilient, however, and while she spent a week in her house seeing only her closest friends, after the service she started to go out occasionally – either visiting Merrill, or Fenris and Sebastian, or occasionally Flora Harriman, who was <em>very<em> distraught over Leandra's death as well. She even made it to the Hanged Man occasionally, although she never stayed very late.

About two weeks after she'd begun to start seeing people again, Varric stopped by the estate one afternoon. He frowned, when he looked into the study and saw that it was only she. "Did you and Robes have a fight?"

She winced, and looked away. "Not really."

He inhaled. "Beautiful, you can't _do_ this. With the kind of loss you suffered, you need him more than ever-"

She shook her head. "You don't understand, Varric. And I can't- I can't talk about it."

He sighed, sitting down on the divan. "All right, Beautiful, but I think you're making a mistake. I see how you are every night. You miss him, don't you?"

Lise winced again. "I don't- all right, Varric, I do. But I _can't_ see him right now."

Varric sighed again. "Have it your way. You always were a stubborn one."

The truth was, she didn't know how to face Orsino. A week after the service, he'd sent her a letter.

"_Lise,_

_It's been two weeks since I last saw you in my study, and not a day has gone by that I haven't regretted everything. I was a fool, and it lost me the most important thing in my life. I wanted to tell you that if I could, I would come out there as often as you would have me, but I don't deserve it. Your sorrow is of my own making, you don't need me there to make the pain harder to bear. But please know that I only stay away because of that. Again, I can only say that I am so sorry._

_You and I are – were – friends of a sort that one only finds once in a lifetime. If I do not see you again for years, still know that the minute you walk through my door, you will be as welcome as you are today. And if I never see you again, know that you gave me something very sweet and very special, and that I will forever think of you, daily."_

_Yours,_

_Orsino"_

She'd cried for nights after receiving it. She wanted to see him, but every time she thought of her mother, she found herself drawing away from the idea of spending time with him. It wasn't really his fault – she knew that. But the same thing that was causing her to still blame herself was also causing her to blame him. She didn't know if things could ever go back to being the same as they had been.

After a lot of thought, she wrote back.

"_Orsino,_

_Thank you for your letter. It helps to know you're thinking about me. I miss you, but I can't see you. I know that you didn't intend any of this to happen, and I know none of it's your fault. I don't blame you, but I still blame myself. The two go hand in hand._

_My companions are looking out for me, so everything here is as normal as it can be. I don't know what tomorrow will hold, but I still manage to make it through each day. Luckily there haven't been any crises, although I wonder if I had to be out and on the move again, then maybe things would return to normal more quickly. Although it will never be the same without mother here._

_Perhaps, someday, we will see each other again. I'd like that._

_Yours,_

_Lise"_

When he received her letter, Orsino was torn between relief and agony. He was relieved that she was doing all right – he hadn't talked to any of her companions, and had no other way of knowing how she fared. Her last line gave him both hope and despair – it seemed as if she was trying not to write him off completely, but there was also the unwritten sense that she wouldn't be _trying_ to see him. And considering that she was the only reason he'd ever had to leave the Gallows, he wasn't really sure what would bring them together again.

And he was so _very_ alone. When they were spending time together, he'd known how much she meant to him. But now that she was gone, he truly understood just what a fixture in his life she'd become. Not a day went by that he didn't read something he wanted to share with her, see something he wanted to tell her about, or just look up at his fire and want desperately to see her sitting beside it. How he'd managed to live so many years with just his own company he didn't know; now that she'd been in his life – was it only half a year? – he knew the difference. What was it that he'd said, that first meeting so many months ago? "I've never been able to decide if love is the best or worst fate that can befall a mage?"

Well, he knew now – it was both. He'd not have traded a minute of it, but it made the rest of his life so very colourless now that she was gone. Still, he'd survived such a colourless life for forty years before meeting her – he could survive it for at least another forty more.

* * *

><p>And so they both fell back into the patterns they'd lived in before they'd met. Although none of Hawke's friends understood why the First Enchanter no longer visited, they knew better than to ask, especially when they saw the look on her face any time she heard his name. Behind her back, Isabela and Varric would often hatch harebrained schemes for getting the two to run into one another again, although they both knew she'd kill them if they tried anything. Now that he was gone, it was obvious to everyone that she loved him- it didn't help that Orana and Bodahn had to force her to take care of herself, and she still lost weight.<p>

But there were still problems to solve, errands to run, and catastrophes to forestall. It grew no easier to come home to an empty estate, but she no longer felt the raw feeling in her throat every time she passed her mother's door. She didn't exactly get _used_ to Leandra's absence, but she grew more able to accept it. She found herself smiling occasionally, even when she thought of a joke her mother might laugh at.

* * *

><p>It was several months later, at the tail end of summer – the hottest time of the year, when everyone was feeling just a little bit irritable, including Hawke – when Isabela came tearing through her door one evening.<p>

"Hawke, you _have to help me. _I'm _going to die_!"

* * *

><p><em>Dareth shiral, <em>_emma vhenan_ - safe journey, my heart.

_As always, the characters belong to Bioware. I just cause them pain and suffering._


	17. Reunion Amidst the Chaos

_And so, the end of Act 2 approaches. Do not fear, the story of Lise and Orsino will continue through and beyond - at least a bit - Act 3. Thank you for all of the reviews and watchlistings! I particularly like the image of Lise and Orsino fighting back to back._

* * *

><p>Fenris looked up from his seat by the window, across from Lise's desk. He paused in the middle of his reading aloud to say, "Again? What did you catch <em>this<em> time, Isabela?"

The pirate glared at him. "Oh _ha, ha_. Very funny. What are you reading, anyhow? It sounds as boring as Hawke's love life."

Hawke, who'd been writing as Fenris read, put her quill into the inkstand and its point clicked viciously against the glass bottom. "_Not_ funny, Isabela. You seem rather – chipper – for someone who's supposedly on death's doorstep."

Isabela shrugged. "Oh, that? It was just to get your attention. It worked, didn't it?" She giggled slightly as she leaned over and pushed Fenris' large book up to read the title. "_Laws and Citations for the City-State of Kirkwall and the Surrounding Environs, Vol. II._" She blinked, nonplussed, then threw her hands into the air. "I give up. You two are completely _cracked_."

Lise sighed and rubbed her forehead. There were lines across it that hadn't been there the previous year, and more frequently these days she had dark circles under her eyes. "Fen's practicing his reading, and helping me in the process. Aveline's got some problems with fugitives trying to convert to the Qun to escape the guards and I told her I'd do some research on it." Sitting back, she put one hand under her chin and tilted her head, popping her neck. "So, what's so important that you had to fake a fatality?"

Dropping down onto the divan with a sigh, Isabela propped her boots up on a chair. "Well, the thing is this. I've been following some leads, and I think I've found the relic! There's this guy – Wall-Eyed Sam – who-"

Hawke snapped, "Really, Isabela? Another blind lead on this relic of yours? I'm beginning to think it doesn't even exist." The words were no sooner out of her mouth than she winced at the look on Isabela's face. "I'm sorry, Izzy. It's been a long day. A long month."

The pirate shrugged. "Look, Hawke, the self-denial is all you. I can't help it if you're wound up tighter than a nug's arse. I came to ask for your help, but if you won't, then I'll just go elsewhere."

Sighing, Lise looked down at her pages of meticulous notes. "Can it wait at least a few days, Izzy? I promised Aveline as quick a resolution as I can on this. The Viscount is barely even visible these days, and the Arishok seems to be getting more and more restless." She thought back on the last few times she'd been in his presence; more and more frequently he'd said things that seemed to imply a wish to force the Qun upon Kirkwall, and that was something she _couldn't_ allow.

It was Isabela's turn to look sheepish as she got up and started to pace. "Well… this relic. It might help a little, you know?"

Lise and Fenris both blinked. "How would _that_ be?" Hawke asked.

Fenris narrowed his eyes. "If you're using this to get Hawke's attention again, we'll have words."

Isabela waved her hands in a _back off, slow down_ gesture. "Look, all I'm saying is that this relic, well… it might be the reason the qunari came here in the first place, all right?"

Hawke slowly got out of her chair, then crossed her arms and leaned against the door frame. "You mean to tell me you've known what the relic was _all this time_ and you never mentioned it? You _know_ what it is that's keeping the qunari here in Kirkwall and _you never mentioned it_?"

Isabela winced. "Weeeeellll, in a nutshell… yes. Look, I didn't know where it was until now, so I saw no reason to bring it up. If I'd told anyone, they'd have gone after it too, and I'd never have gotten it back. You will help me, won't you, Hawke?"

"What _is_ it?"

"It's some book, handwritten by some philosopher – I don't know. Kaidan, Cousland… something like that."

Fenris looked aghast. "_Koslun?_"

"Yeah! That's the one!"

"He's one of their greatest thinkers – the founder of their religion! That book would be _sacred_ to the qunari!"

Lise put her forehead in her hand. "Great. You _stole_ an _original copy_ of what amounts to the qunari version of Andraste's diary."

"Hey, I didn't steal it, all right? Someone _else_ swiped it from Orlais, and passed it to me. Then the bloody qunari picked up my trail and followed me out here. I tried to lose them in a storm outside Kirkwall but I cut it too close and that's when I lost my ship _and_ my whole bloody crew."

"You're the one who stranded the qunari here, too? _Maker's breath,_ Isabela!"

Isabela looked uncomfortable. "Well… I'm sorry, all right? But the point _is_, Sam's going to be passing it to some Tevinter traders _tonight_. If we don't get our hands on it, it'll be gone for good!"

Fenris nodded. "The Tevinter Imperium has been at war with the qunari for so long; getting their hands on something like this book would greatly demoralize their foes."

"And if I get it back I can get Castillon off my trail for good!"

Hawke crossed her arms again. "Isabela, you know if you get this and the qunari come after you, I _won't_ be able to help you."

"I know, Hawke. Just get me this book and I _swear_ I'll keep it out of your hair."

Lise sighed. She'd promised Isabela a thousand times to help her track the relic, but knowing now what it was made it that much harder. If _she_ got the relic, she could get the qunari _out_ of Kirkwall for good – as long as the Arishok didn't assume she'd helped steal it.

It was times like this that she wished she could talk to Orsino – he always had something relevant to say in these situations and his advice was always sound. She knew she _could_; she could visit him that evening and he'd more than likely welcome her, if his feelings hadn't changed. But… she _couldn't_. It was to the point now where she wanted to see him, but didn't know how to approach him. She wondered if, perhaps, the distance had grown too far. The thought made her heart ache, but she pushed it to the back of her mind; musings like that she tried to leave for the quiet hours in the night when she already couldn't sleep.

Finally, she looked at Isabela, who'd been watching her, pretending not to be anxious. "All right, we'll go. I'll send a note to Varric. If we get it done tonight I'll still be able to finish working on this-" she gestured to her notes "-tomorrow."

Isabela flung her arms around Lise's neck. "I love you, Hawke, you won't regret this!"

Lise just sighed and patted her arm. "If you get me killed, Izzy, I'm coming back to haunt you."

* * *

><p>The scrap of paper pinned to what she assumed was Wall-Eyed Sam's body was stained and the note was very brief. Isabela had run off after the man while Hawke and the others were fighting the Tevinter magisters and the qunari who had come to stop them; when the fight was over and they'd stepped outside, she was already gone.<p>

"_Hawke – I know you said I could have the relic, but I don't want this coming back to bite you. I've taken it, and I'm leaving Kirkwall. With any luck I can get it to Castillon and get another ship and get back onto the seas soon. Thanks for everything – you know I'll never forget you. - Isabela"_

"Well, once a thief, always a thief." Fenris glared at the body on the ground.

"For all that I expected it of Rivaini, I never thought she'd do it." Varric shrugged.

Lise just felt a weighing sorrow; she'd expected something like this sooner or later, but it still made her sad. It felt like her group was fracturing more and more – she'd argued with Merrill that summer over the use of an artefact that the elf wanted to restore her eluvian; they still talked, but the atmosphere between the two was tense. Anders rarely came around – he was available any time they needed a mage or a healer, but his appearances at the Hanged Man were few and far between, and he never visited her estate any more. Orsino was no longer in her life, Aveline was busy with growing tensions with the qunari; with Isabela leaving, the circle was basically Hawke, Fenris, Varric, and sometimes Sebastian. It wasn't even a circle any more, it was a square.

Shrugging, she straightened up and tucked the note into her pocket. "It's her decision. Let's just get back to the estate and get cleaned up; I'm not too happy that we killed even _more_ qunari tonight. I hope that doesn't make things harder for Aveline." Behind her back Fenris and Varric frowned. The old Hawke would have immediately set out to track her errant companion; the new Hawke never seemed to let any emotion show if she could help it.

Back at the estate, there was a letter waiting from Aveline, and Lise swore when she read it.

"_Hawke,_

_More fugitives have claimed _viddathari_ status – this time it's two elves that killed a guardsman. I'm having even more trouble holding the rest of the guard back now. They want an accounting; we can't hold off any longer. Please do what you can tonight and then meet me at the qunari compound first thing in the morning. Bring Fenris, if he'll come – we need all the help we can get._

_-Aveline"_

She looked at Fenris and Varric; they both nodded, and the three of them made arrangements to meet Aveline shortly after sunrise the following morning.

* * *

><p>When Lise saw the first streaks of grey on the horizon, she hadn't even slept. She'd been up until the early hours reading, even though she knew from her experience with Seamus that it wouldn't be of any use; she didn't know how this was going to go over but she was afraid that it wasn't going to go well. She'd lain in bed for hours, tossing; finally she decided that it was just making her more tired to try to sleep and instead got up to make some tea.<p>

After another hour, Fenris stopped by; the two picked Varric up at the Hanged Man on the way to the docks. At the compound, Aveline and a contingent of guards looked like they'd just arrived. When the Guard-Captain saw Hawke enter the area, she stepped up to the qunari at the gate. "We request an audience with the Arishok."

The qunari crossed his arms, looking at the group of people. "You are too many to allow inside."

"I will just take a small group, is that fair?" She waved Lise, Varric, and Fenris over, and the guard nodded, wordlessly opening the gate.

Instead of waiting for Hawke to speak, however, Aveline stepped up to stand before the qunari leader. "Arishok, I seek several fugitives from justice, and I am told that they may be here. I would like to speak with you about releasing them to my charge." At this, Lise and Fenris shot alarmed glances at one another; this was not the best way to speak with the Arishok, especially not with the current atmosphere in the compound.

The Arishok stepped forward, his arms crossed, and he looked down at Aveline. "You say I must release these men, but I will not. They have converted to the Qun, and as _viddathari_, they are under my jurisdiction, not yours."

Aveline shook her head. "Arishok, they are criminals. You cannot just allow them safe passage because they ask it."

Hawke winced, and stepped forward. "Arishok."

"_Shanedan_, Hawke. Do you speak for this _bas_?"

Lise glanced at Aveline, who was looking particularly angry. "I speak _with_ this one, Arishok."

He nodded. "Let us look at your 'dangerous criminals.'" He barked something and a qunari stepped aside to allow two elves to step forward. "What are you accused of?"

The first of the elves spoke. "A guard raped our sister, messere. We reported it, but no one ever did anything about it, so we took matters into our own hands and paid him a visit."

Hawke turned. "Is this true, Aveline?"

Aveline paused, and shrugged. "I have heard rumours, and I already have people looking into the matter. But that does not excuse their conduct."

The Arishok looked at Lise. She could tell that he was close to breaking point, but she had no idea of how to resolve this situation without making things worse. After a moment, he spoke. "You. Hawke. What would you do in this situation?"

She stopped, and thought. "Arishok, I understand the reasoning behind the crime that these two _viddathari_ committed. However, by Kirkwall law, it is still a crime. As I would not attempt to practice Kirkwall customs should I have the honour to visit Seheron, you cannot expect the Guard-Captain to turn her back on her duty here, in Kirkwall."

The Arishok turned away. "Her duty, you say? Then perhaps it is time for the customs of Kirkwall to change. Too long have I sat here in this filth-infested hole of a city, watching the _basra_ _vashedan_ scurry and skitter like frightened vermin."

Aveline, looking alarmed, stepped forward. "Arishok, there is no need to-"

Finally, he lost his temper. He whirled, his fang-like teeth bared. "There _is_ need and you filth continue to overlook it! It is _not_ my place to fix this broken ruin; you should _thank_ me that I have decided to do so!"

He began shouting orders, and the qunari started to mobilize. Realizing that things had just gone as far south as was possible, Hawke grabbed Aveline and Varric's arms and began to run with them as fast as she could towards the exit, knowing that Fenris would follow. A few qunari attempted to stop them, but as the Arishok had not yet given orders to do so, most just scowled as the party escaped the compound post-haste.

* * *

><p>"<em>Hightown<em>," Aveline gasped as they regrouped near the stairs into Lowtown. "We _have_ to get in and warn the Viscount!"

That seemed to be the qunari idea as well, however – either that or they'd been planning this for a while and had merely been waiting for an excuse; Lise wondered, but at the moment it wasn't exactly important. What _was_ important was sneaking through the streets – there was no way they could take on the masses of qunari they saw every few blocks.

They'd just gotten to the edge of Lowtown - they could see the stairs ahead – when Aveline pulled the group into a cul-de-sac. "Hawke, I'm going to go try to find as many guards as I can – I know where their patrols put them. If the qunari are this thick the closer we go, we have to assume they're already at the Keep. See what you can do to get in unseen – you're the only one who can deal with the Arishok, and you know it."

The two women gave each other long looks, then Lise nodded. "Maker bless you, Aveline."

"And you, Hawke."

The Guard-Captain ran off and the remaining three made a bolt for the stairs once the way was clear. As they came out into the lowest market square in Hightown, however, they ran into their first qunari patrol. As they skidded to a stop, the Sten in charge looked at Lise, then cried, "_Teth a_! Hawke! _Vinek kathas_!"

The patrol itself was not too troublesome; they'd fought enough qunari that they were prepared for anything the group could offer. What they did not expect, however, was the rearguard, lead by an Arvaarad and Saarebas, that came along just as the Sten fell to Fenris' sword.

Between Varric and Fenris, they managed to get the Arvaarad down, but the Saarebas evaded most of Lise's arrows. With a cry, he unleashed a massive earthquake that sent them all reeling to their knees, and through her hazy vision she saw him preparing to strike them down as a group with a huge ball of lightning he'd gathered between his palms. He raised his hands, began to shout, and then his cries were cut short as a massive blade passed through his stomach. As the lifeless body fell forward, Lise saw Knight-Commander Meredith wipe her blade clean on the qunari's armour and then sheathe it.

She walked forward. "Serah Hawke. I was wondering where you were. I was afraid they'd already gotten you into the Keep, but I suppose I should not be surprised that you are out here, fighting." She offered Lise a hand, which Lise gratefully accepted. The templars who accompanied Meredith helped Fenris and Varric to their feet.

"Thank you, Knight-Commander. It was our intention to get to the Keep to warn the Viscount-"

Meredith cut her off. "It is too late for that. The qunari have been gathering hostages, and have taken nearly every citizen in Hightown of any status there already. I do not know what they intend, but it appears that they have been planning this for some time."

Fenris spoke up. "They will take all hostages of any import and put them in one place. Then, they will give a simple choice: convert to the Qun. Those who do, live. The rest..." he trailed off, and shrugged.

"Lovely," Meredith said. She turned to Lise. "Serah Hawke, I will need you to do your best to stop them. I will attempt to get you to the Keep, but I am not able to slip through crowds as you are. Hopefully, you will manage to stop this monster before the captives die."

Lise nodded. "It is both my honour and duty to serve Kirkwall, messere."

The Knight-Commander nodded. "Good. Then let us continue on."

They met with more qunari as they traversed the streets, but with Meredith on their side now, all battles were quickly over. As they walked into the square in front of the Keep steps, however, they saw the biggest group of qunari yet.

Meredith looked at Lise. "I and my templars will circle around the far side. You attack them from this vantage and between our groups we should easily be able to win through."

She nodded, and as the templars moved off, turned to Fenris and Varric. "Well, you two heard her-" she stopped as she heard shouting far nearer to their group than Meredith could possibly be. "That sounds like fighting," she said quietly, moving forward. Crouching next to a wall, she inched to the corner and peered around.

What she saw was a group of Circle mages, surrounded by Qunari. They had the worst of the battle by far, and with a sickening drop of her stomach, she saw that Orsino was in the centre, fighting off three Karashok at once. She froze and closed her eyes. _Dear Maker, keep him safe. Keep him safe until we can get to him!_

She stood, and gave the hand signal to Fenris, who leapt into the fray. She followed up with a rain of arrows where the qunari were the thickest and the mages the scarcest, and then pulled her hunting knife, using it to elbow and slice her way to Orsino. When he saw her, the look on his face – of amazement, joy, and tired relief – set her heart racing more than it had in months.

Without a word, they fell back-to-back, and began to take on the qunari as they had the bandits so many months ago. From a distance, she heard the templars join the combat; things seemed to be going well and they had almost all of the qunari cleared when she caught movement out of the corner of her eye.

A group of Antaam and Karasaad had come down one of the small alleys leading from the Chantry. She turned to face them, calling something over her shoulder to Orsino; as he turned, the group charged. Three fell to her arrows and two to his fire; that still left another two. She fought one off with her hunting knife, but just at that moment the last Antaam reached Orsino and she was only aware of a flash of steel and his cry of pain before he crumpled to the ground beside her. She screamed and drove her knife through the windpipe of the qunari she faced, but before she could attack the other Fenris had run him through.

* * *

><p><strong>Viddathari<strong>: A convert to the Qun.

**Shanedan**: A respectful greeting.

**Bas/Basra**: Foreign to the Qun, literal meaning "thing". Implication of being purposeless.

**Basra Vashedan**: Used to refer to non-Qunari ideas, and sometimes, people; "foreigner trash."

**Teth a**: A call for attention, or warning.

**Vinek kathas**: An order to attack or kill.

**Sten**: Commander of infantry

**Arvaarad**: "One Who Holds Back Evil"; a Qunari who watches over the saarebas

**Saarebas**: A "dangerous thing," the Qunari word and title for mages. A "Bas Saarebas" denotes a non-Qunari mage.

**Karashok**: Infantry private.

**Karasaad**: Soldier rank.

**Antaam**: Soldier rank.

_As always, the characters belong to Bioware; I just play with them._


	18. You Had Me at Have Confidence

_Don't hate me for the title; I wanted a serious one as this is a serious chapter, but it wouldn't go away. I loved that scene! I know that usually I try to gloss over events that happen in game, but as it's Orsino's big badass moment, I had to let him have his spotlight._

* * *

><p><em>Ch. 18, in which the hero and heroine defy the qunari.<em>

Frantically, Hawke dropped to her knees beside Orsino's body. She was murmuring "_You'll be fine, everything will be all right, everything's fine, you'll be all right, wake up, wake up, wake_ up" in a sort of repetitive chant as she felt for his pulse; the knot of cold fear in her stomach uncoiled when she found it beneath her fingertips, faint but growing stronger. She checked for blood; she could not see any, but there was a rapidly-bruising knot on his forehead. Standard procedure for fighting mages was to disable before killing - that way your killing blow was not interrupted by a split-second paralysis spell. They were just lucky that Fenris had intervened during the second part of the standard procedure.

Frowning, she then noticed just how worn he looked. She could easily tell _now_ that he was forty – there were circles under his eyes, and his whole frame just seemed slighter. His robes – the black, red, and gold ones from when they'd first met – still fit, but not quite as snugly. Lise pressed the back of one hand to her eyes momentarily; she _could not_ cry right now, no matter what.

After a moment, she sat back on her knees; she would not leave him here, but she _had_ to get to the Keep. Fenris had dashed off to help finish off the qunari who were still standing; within minutes they'd be able to get up the stairs. Looking around, she saw a stack of crates next to a disabled wagon; she could put him there and have Varric stand guard until he awoke. Nodding to herself, she leaned over, reaching for his arms; as she did, he coughed, groaned, and his eyes opened.

For a split second, moss-green eyes met brilliant emerald, and the look of _thank the Maker he's all right_ in hers was unmistakable. He gave a weak smile and instead of picking him up, she helped him sit up. "Orsino, are you all right?"

He nodded, and in a slightly cracked voice said, "I am, Hawke, but I wouldn't have been if you and your companions hadn't shown up. Thank you, my friend."

The momentary flicker of pain at hearing him use her surname instead of Lise passed; she realized that it was only to be expected. She wanted to put her head against his shoulder in relief, but with Meredith less than halfway across the square, she held back. Instead, she reached into the pouch at her hip and pulled out a restorative draught. They were nasty, but if you needed one, they were invaluable. She uncorked it and handed it to him; he groaned but took it, then downed it. "_Faugh_, those are _disgusting_."

She laughed, quietly. "I always tell Anders to add mint, but he refuses. Says it builds character." The two exchanged a quiet, amused look – _if we live through this I am never leaving his side again _danced briefly through her mind_ –_ but at that point a thought struck him and he looked around.

"My mages, are they-"

Sorrowfully, she shook her head. "I'm sorry, Orsino, but we were too late." _Again. Am I always going to be too late_?

He could see the unwritten words on her face before her shoulders drooped and reached out, touching her hair. "_Stop that,_ Hawke. You can't hold yourself to every failure. I'm _not_ going to let you blame yourself for this." Her throat closed, and she nodded as he ran over to the nearest body; it was as lifeless as the rest, and he dropped to his knees beside it. His own shoulders slumped as he whispered, "_Gone._ I _told_ them to run…" She put her hand on his shoulder just as Meredith walked up. With a jolt, Lise realized that the square was silent; the qunari were dead.

"_First Enchanter Orsino_. I see that you survived."

Orsino got to his feet, facing her. "Knight-Commander. Your _relief_ is _overwhelming_."

Startled, Lise looked at each of them; there was a level of tension that hadn't been there the last time she'd been in the same room with them both. Before she could wonder further, however, Meredith continued. "We have no time for discussion; we must move quickly if we are to overtake the qunari at the Keep."

"And who will lead us? You, I assume? I will _not_ have our lives thrown to the flames to feed your vanity!"

Lise blinked, looking sharply at Orsino. He had _never_ spoken like this to the Knight-Commander in all of the time that she'd known him. Clearly, more had happened in the preceding summer than she'd guessed. But this was not the time to try to get to the bottom of it; she stepped forward.

"We really _don't_ have time for this, you know. _I'll_ lead, if I have to."

Orsino nodded, looking at Meredith; she looked at Hawke for a while, but then nodded as well. "I think that will probably be the best option. You have not failed Kirkwall yet, Serah Hawke."

Lise squared her shoulders - _this is going to be fun_, she thought, groaning. She felt like she had an oversized version of Anders versus Fenris at her side, but she'd figure out what was wrong later. "Come on. Let's get to the Keep to see what the qunari are up to, but let's _not_ get ourselves killed."

With Orsino and Varric at her side and Fenris at her back, they walked up the stairs. Meredith and her templars followed shortly behind, watching the square for any movement. Once they'd reached the entrance to the Viscount's Way, they ducked into an alcove and Orsino stuck his head around the corner. He came back in a very short time. "There's a squad at the Keep entrance; they seem to be keeping an eye out. I'm sure they realize that several of the city's most prominent – and dangerous – citizens are not yet inside."

Hawke frowned, and tried to think, but Meredith stepped up. "This is the only way in – we _must_ assault them now, before their numbers grow!"

"Are you _mad_? They have _hostages_! We need a distraction so that Hawke can slip inside." The Knight-Commander narrowed her eyes, but Lise raised her head.

"What's on your mind, First Enchanter?"

"The Knight-Commander and I will stay here and distract the troops; you and your companions can slip up the edge of the colonnade while we have their attention. Once we finish them off, we can follow you inside. I'm sure there will be more qunari in the Keep, so be careful."

Hawke nodded, and Meredith crossed her arms. As Lise, Fenris, and Varric moved behind a column to wait for an appropriate moment, she spoke, her eyes narrowed. "And what do you suggest, Orsino?"

The First Enchanter smirked slightly, his eyes flickering briefly towards Lise. Grasping his staff firmly in one hand, he began to walk out into the open, and looked over his shoulder for a moment with a display of self-assurance Hawke rarely saw in him. "Have confidence, Knight-Commander."

Lise found herself blushing ever-so-slightly, and Varric laughed at her, silently. She ignored him, nodding to the templars. The three slipped through the shadows behind the columns, pacing Orsino; as he got to the midway point he stopped, giving her a nearly-imperceptible nod, and squared his shoulders. Raising his staff, he called a challenge to the qunari assembled at the front doors. "You will _not_ take this city without a fight!"

The Sten in charge of the squad stepped forward. Pointing at Orsino, he cried, "_Bas saarebas_! _Vinek kathas_!" Just then, a massive fireball slammed into them, igniting several and staggering the group. With battle cries, they charged as Orsino retreated slowly, but at least three more of them fell to his flames before they even reached the end of the colonnade. She closed her eyes, saying a brief, fervent prayer for his safety, then gave a nod to Fenris and Varric and the three slipped up the last set of stairs and into the Viscount's Keep.

* * *

><p>Inside, they stepped over bodies of guards and qunari alike; she winced as she saw several faces she recognized. As they walked up the double stairs, several qunari charged forward to meet them, but they quickly met the fate of their brethren.<p>

As Hawke approached the throne room, she heard the frightened murmurs of the nobles' voices as well as the louder voice of the Arishok, but could not distinguish any words. Suddenly, there was a yell from the qunari leader and a collective gasp and cry from the nobles; she quickened her pace and flung open the double doors. The qunari standing guard raised their spears in challenge, but when they saw who it was, stood back to let her and her companions through.

The Arishok stood on the stairs in front of the throne with his massive two-handed axe blade-down upon the floor; he rested both hands upon the base of the haft as he faced the cowering assembly. Before him, upon the carpet, lay Viscount Dumar's head, severed, with his crown lying about a foot away. She closed her eyes; it was a horrible sight, but at that moment she could not forget her own mother's face with its glad assurance that she would be going to rejoin her husband and son. She hoped that Dumar and Seamus had found one another, and had reconciled.

The nobles, desperate for anyone who looked like they might take charge, parted like water before Hawke and her two friends. She approached the Arishok, her weapons sheathed, and stood before him. He nodded to her as Varric and Fenris drew off to the side, behind her.

"_Shanedan_, Hawke. I have been expecting you." Putting his axe – still wet with the Viscount's blood – over his shoulder, the Arishok turned to address the assembled nobles. "_This_ is respect, _bas_! Some – _most_ – of you will never see it!"

He looked down at her, and continued. "_Maraas toh ebra-shok_; Hawke, you alone are _basalit-an_. I will turn all of these_ dathrasi_ to the Qun, but you – perhaps your companions – I would _welcome_ into our ranks. You are Sten within your city;" he gestured to Fenris and Varric, "and you would be Sten within the Qun. And when you die, you would be _qunaron vhel_."

A few of the nobles murmured, worriedly. Lise squared her shoulders, standing before him; for all that she was several feet shorter than he they still looked like two predators facing one another. "I am no Sten, Arishok. I am a simple citizen of Kirkwall, and as its defender, I demand that you and your men leave. _Now_."

He shook his head. "Leave? Leave these puling _kabethari_ to their pathetic lives? They _need_ the Qun, Hawke. You and I know this."

Hawke crossed her arms. "They are not _kabethari_ until you have defeated all who would stand against you. They do not 'need' the Qun; what they _deserve_ is the choice to do as they will. Any who wish to convert may do so, and leave with you."

The Arishok looked across the crowd of nobles, and sneered. "You say leave, but you _know_ I am denied Par Vollen until I have regained the Tome of Koslun. How would you see this resolved?"

Lise narrowed her eyes – _of course he already knew –_ but as she opened her mouth to respond, there was a commotion at the door. One of the qunari guards grunted, then fell forward, a dagger sticking out from between his shoulder blades. From behind him stepped Isabela, a jaunty grin on her face and what Hawke could only assume was the Tome of Koslun beneath one arm. "I believe I can help you there."

Hawke gaped in surprise, and the pirate jumped over the downed qunari and walked up to her side, handing the tome to the Arishok. She grinned at Hawke, then looked up at him. "I believe you'll find it – mostly – intact." She looked back at Hawke. "Sorry I'm late, but it took me a while to get here, what with all the fighting."

"Didn't you have a ship to catch?" Lise gave Isabela a smile that only barely showed just how relieved she was to see her errant friend.

Isabela glared. "This is _your_ damned influence, Hawke! I was halfway to Ostwick when I knew I had to turn around. You'd never make it without me!"

The Arishok had turned, handing the Tome reverently to one of his Sten, and there was a murmuring amongst the assembled qunari as it was carried out of the throne room. Turning back to Hawke, he stepped forward.

"We have the Tome of Koslun; we are now free to leave this city, _with_ the thief."

Isabela yelped. "_What_?"

Behind her, Fenris murmured, "You stranded them here for four years; do you _really_ expect them to just let you off?" Varric poked him, and the elf glared back.

Hawke cleared her throat. "Pardon, Arishok?"

"You know our laws, Hawke. You know we cannot allow such a theft to occur, unpunished."

She shook her head. Looking him squarely in the eye, she said, in a voice loud enough for everyone in the building to hear, "I do _not_ abandon my own."

There were a few cheers at this, and he nodded. "I knew you would say such a thing, Hawke. You are truly a worthy adversary. As one who has earned my respect, I challenge you to a duel. The winner takes the thief; the loser sacrifices his or her life."

Isabela looked alarmed. "No! If you have to duel anyone, duel _me_!"

The Arishok looked at her, a low growl in his voice as he snapped, "No! You are not _basalit-an_. You are unworthy!"

Hawke shrugged. "I accept your challenge, Arishok." The crowd gasped, and she turned to look at her friends. Fenris nodded to her, and she gave Varric a long look; after a while, he frowned and nodded. She took a deep breath. _If I die, hopefully he'll talk to Orsino._

At a nod from their leader, the qunari began to clear the hall, herding the nobles up onto the dais; a Sten was posted at the stairs up to the throne along with Varric, and Fenris guarded the exit from the room with another Sten. Isabela, as the prize, was pushed towards the throne and guarded carefully by a trio of Antaam. The two combatants faced one another across a clear space that was punctuated only by two pillars.

The Arishok bowed. "_Panahedan,_ Hawke."

She returned his gesture. "_Panahedan,_ Arishok."

The Sten by Fenris gave a cry of "_Teth a_!" and the two began to circle. She eyed him; for all that she'd given Fenris a positive nod, she had _no_ idea how she was going to pull this off. Yes, she could bring down an _average_ qunari with several arrows; the Arishok was no _average_ qunari. There was a _reason_ he was Arishok. He was double her height and at least three times her girth, and none of it was fat. His horns alone were formidable weapons, and each one was as big round as her forearm. His nails were one step away from claws, and his teeth were as sharp as fangs.

As these thoughts went through her mind, he sized her up – _he probably already had a plan for how to kill me in case I refused to convert to the Qun_, she thought. _Probably came up with it as soon as he determined that I was any kind of threat_. She supposed she should feel honoured, but right now she just felt terrified. _I'd really like to make it out of here alive. Isabela's mother was a gypsy; she'd probably curse my shade if I died and she got captured_.

As she took a firm grip on her bow, he charged. She let him get close, so close she could smell his sweat; she was tensed and the moment he got within range she rolled away, using his foot to propel herself forward. This had the added advantage of putting him slightly off balance, and as he tried to regain his footing, she stood and shot; she'd already had one of her arrows - tipped with the tiniest head of dwarven explosives - on her bowstring. It exploded on the pillar near his face and sent him reeling for enough time for her to flee into the back corner.

This enraged him; he stood, bellowing a challenge, and charged her again. She got off several shots while he was running, but only one of them hit well enough to be considered a success, and it was merely buried in his forearm - he didn't even seem to notice it was there. He swung his axe; it did not hit her but in order for her to dance out of its arc she found herself off balance as well. She threw herself towards the centre of the room, but he followed up on this advantage, pursuing her with dogged swings.

It was at this time that Meredith and Orsino arrived at the throne room; the doors had been left open and the two stopped behind Fenris and the Sten. "_What is this madness_?" Meredith hissed.

Fenris turned his head briefly enough to whisper, "_I__f Hawke defeats the Arishok in single combat, the qunari will leave Kirkwall immediately_." He thought it best not to mention that Lise was duelling for the life of a pirate and thief.

The Knight-Commander's eyes narrowed. "_Can we trust them_?" The elf merely nodded.

At her side, Orsino stifled an alarmed cry at Fenris' words. He could see Lise in the room ahead, and she was just barely fending off the Arishok. He slid in next to Fenris; the tattooed elf began to shake his head at the mage, but seeing that Orsino was trying to still stay behind his shoulder, Fenris merely shrugged.

Just then, the Arishok performed a complicated move with his axe which tripped Hawke; there was a collective gasp as she went sliding across the floor, stopping only when her head hit the pillar. The sickening thud caused Orsino's stomach to lurch. The qunari leader said something to his opponent, raising his axe; he then brought it down full-brunt upon her body. She attempted to roll to the side, but she was dizzy from the blow to her head. She moved sluggishly, and the axe bit deeply into her side – from where Orsino was standing he swore that it had cut her in half. He started to bolt towards her, but Fenris held him back with a snarl. "_If you charge in now, they'll all fall upon her and she'll _certainly _die!"_

However, she seemed to still be moving, if faintly, and for some reason the killing blow never fell. As the Arishok slowly staggered, falling backwards, they realized that it was because she'd drawn her hunting knife as she rolled away and had driven it into his heart. He staggered, but none of his men went to help him; they kept strictly to the rules of the combat. He gasped out something that no one could hear, and the minute he fell dead upon the tiles the two Stens nodded across the ring to one another. Without a word, the qunari began to file out of the door.

The minute the signal had been given Fenris let go of Orsino, who flew across the room to Hawke. She was lying there, shaking, with blood pouring out of her wound; there was a slice across her side and belly that looked as the axe had _just_ missed cleaving her spine. He knelt at her side and moved her hands – she seemed to be trying to hold everything in – and at his first touch her eyes rolled back into her head as she fainted.

From behind him, Meredith asked, "Will she live?"

Taking a deep breath, he shook his head. "I cannot tell, yet." The Knight-Commander moved off to see to the evacuation of the civilians, and leaning over Hawke, Orsino summoned his healing magic. "_Ma'arlath_, Lise – I will _not_ lose you a second time!"

* * *

><p><strong>Bas Saarebas<strong>: a non-Qunari mage.

**Vinek kathas: **An order to attack or kill.

**Shanedan: **A respectful greeting.

**Bas/Basra: **Foreign to the Qun, literal meaning "thing". Implication of being purposeless.

**Maraas toh ebra-shok: "**You alone are basalit-an.**" **

**Basalit-an: **A non-Qunari worthy of respect.

**Dathrasi: **A type of animal. Used as a derogatory term against indulgent individuals, comparable to the pig.

**Sten: **Commander of infantry**. **

**Qunaron Vhel: **One who is an example to others.

**Kabethari: **Simple person. Term used for all recently-conquered people who haven't converted to the Qun.

**Panahedan: **"Goodbye".

**Teth a**: A call for attention, or warning.

**Ma'arlath**: I love you.

_As always, the characters belong to Bioware. I merely make their lives interesting._


	19. Through a Nightmare, Darkly

_Angst; the darkest hour is always just before the dawn. Well, not really, but it sounds poetic and works well for the story. Thank you for all of the kind words, and if you've read this far, please let me know how you like it! Irrelevant note: I have a thing for masks._

* * *

><p><em>Ch. 19, in which the heroine searches and the hero finds an unlikely partner.<em>

Looking up from her book, Lise noticed through the small study window that the sky had grown dark. She frowned; it was rapidly growing too dark to read. Listening for a moment, she heard Rufus bark outside; _Carver must be home_, she thought.

She put the book away – even though father was dead, she'd promised him that she'd keep up her studies for as long as she could. Looking at his portrait over the mantelpiece, she wondered what he'd think about her and Carver having enlisted in the King's army; protecting his family had been important to him, but he'd never been as interested in King and Country. It was probably due to the fact that while he was originally from Ferelden, he'd spent a lot of time travelling across Thedas, and they had only really had a fixed home for as long as the twins had been able to toddle. But for her and Carver, seeing the darkspawn and wilder folk encroach more and more upon the settled fields of Lothering, joining the army _was_ protecting their family.

Just then, a flash of lightning split the sky, at the same time that a massive peal of thunder shook the house to its foundations. Lise jumped with a small scream; she enjoyed the rain aspect of thunderstorms – in fact, the deluge that had just opened up overhead was soothing – but she could do without the noise. Shrugging, she decided that since she was unable to read any longer – which meant no sewing or writing, either – and she couldn't out into her garden in this weather, she might as well start dinner. At least she'd had the sense to bring in the peas earlier that morning. Calling for her mother, she left the room, beginning to pin her hair up as she walked.

Halfway down the small passage to the kitchen she frowned. She'd called for Leandra several times, but had no response; in fact, if Carver had indeed come home, she was surprised that he hadn't stuck his head in the door after the thunder to laugh at her. It wasn't the biggest house – two floors, with bedrooms on the top and living spaces below, and a half-attic and root cellar just big enough to hold all the harvests of Lise's gardens as well as hams and haunches of meat for winter. She knew that Bethy had gone out that morning – she couldn't quite remember why, but assumed it was to see her friend, Ser Tamra – but both Carver and mother should hear her if she called.

Frowning, she looked into the small living room on the left, but there was no one there. She'd just turned to go when the portrait above the mantle caught her eye; it was a painting of her with Carver and Bethany to her left and right, but she didn't recognize it. And both of her siblings looked just a little different – had Bethy's hair ever been that short? She frowned again, and rubbed her eyes. Perhaps someone had given it to them as a gift and she'd just forgotten.

Meanwhile, the absence of her family began to worry her. She looked into the kitchen, with no luck, then began to call a little more urgently as she went upstairs. Once or twice she paused; she could almost swear she'd heard a faint "Hawke!" in the distance, but that made no sense. Only her sergeants called her Hawke, and they were far away, in Denerim. Perhaps it had just been the storm.

After looking into Carver's room, the room she shared with Bethy, and her mother's room, she frowned. Had everyone gone out while she was absorbed in her book? If so, then why had she heard Rufus? He always accompanied Carver everywhere. Lise looked out the window in her brother's room – it faced the back yard, where Rufus liked to dig – but he was nowhere to be seen. _But I swear I heard a mabari!_

As she had that thought, she happened to look past the yard, through the rain and past the trees behind their house, towards the Korcari Wilds. She froze; there was a dark mass heading towards them, towards Lothering; it was moving quickly and reminded her of the single time she'd been to Amaranthine to see the sea. This was no blue, foamy wave, however – it was a writhing, boiling tidal wave and as it got closer she gave a little cry. It was an army of darkspawn – hundreds and thousands of them. _They're going to swallow Lothering!_ Frantically she turned, running into her room to grab her bow – it would be a shot in the dark for her to do _anything_ but she had to try.

Lise ran downstairs, but the horde was moving faster than she. Just as she got to the back door and flung it open, the wave of darkspawn was upon her; the house seemed to shrink back as a Hurlock charged her and-

Hawke gasped, sitting up in bed. _Maker, what a nightmare._ She looked around, and remembered that Carver was dead, and they'd been in Kirkwall for four years or more. The fire had died down as she slept; getting up, she slipped into her house robe and left her room. Stopping by Leandra's door, she heard her quiet breathing; downstairs, she saw that Rufus was asleep in the foyer. _I suppose I heard him bark a while ago – that must be it_.

_I wonder if it's still storming?_ She wandered past the study, down the hall, past the drawing room and the armoury, and opened the back door. Oddly enough, it was pitch black outside – no moon – and so dark that she could barely see the shapes of the rosebushes outside the back door, much less the trees in the yard. But the rain had stopped, and she heard a voice outside, closer, call her name - "Hawke!" She stepped outside-

Lise blinked in the bright light, music and figures whirling past her. _Wasn't I going somewhere else? Oh. I was looking for mother and Carver- no, that's not right. _She must have come to the ball to look for someone else, someone important. She raised her hand to her forehead as she tried to remember, but the movement of her sleeve caught her eye. It was copper silk, cut in the pattern of falling leaves; it was unfamiliar – richer than anything her family could afford – and she wondered where it had come from. Perhaps it was one of mother's few dresses she'd brought from Kirkwall; Bethany certainly wouldn't wear anything that intricate. Just then, her fingertips touched her face, and she realized that she was wearing a mask, as well. It felt cool to the touch, and smooth, and heavy.

She blinked, and reached up with both hands to pull it off her face. Turning it around, she saw that it was a stylized hawk, made of a translucent reddish stone – carnelian. A familiar voice - one that made her blush - spoke from behind her, murmuring into her ear, "You should not unmask yourself yet, my dear. You'll spoil your parent's masquerade ball." Her heart thudding, Lise tried to turn to see the speaker but could not; a pair of hands with long, lithe fingers covered her own and helped her draw the mask back onto her face. Then, the speaker was gone, leaving only a scrap of paper folded in her hand.

She began to open it, but before she could, there was a figure before her, bowing. The tall, lanky man in white wore a simple white domino mask and a plain gold circlet on his head; "Mistress Hawke," he said in a fine brogue, holding out his hand. Confused, she took it, and he swung her out on the dance floor.

They did not talk, merely danced, and he hummed an old tune she remembered, but could not place. Then, suddenly another cut in; it was a woman, with long, dark hair, dressed as a gypsy. She wore a half-mask of porcelain with a black beauty mark on the cheek; the white set off the darkness of her skin. She leaned forward, smiling. As they danced, she whispered several very risqué things to Lise, causing her to blush, and she was relieved when a strong, upright figure cut in, taking her aside.

"It grows late, Hawke. Are you not going to read your note?" She took a second to look at the figure – the same height as she, with red hair, as well, but her mask was merely a warrior's face-plate helm. Lise blinked. Were they sisters, perhaps? But something tugged at her memory, and she opened the scrap of paper she still clutched in her hand.

"_My love,_" it read. "_Time has moved faster than either of us expected, and I must leave tonight at midnight. But I cannot go without you. You are my heart and my soul, and a minute without you at my side would be an eternity. Will you leave with me? I await your answer, but I beg that you give it quickly. Time runs short for us both._"

Lise stopped, confused. She had a beloved? Then it seemed like a silly thought – _of course I do. I cannot stop thinking about his moss-green eyes._ And yet, she couldn't remember his face, or his name. And she hadn't seen his mask. Looking up, the warrior was gone, and instead, a shorter figure walked purposefully towards her. He had a square jaw, but no beard – _is he a dwarf or a very short man_? – but his mask was certainly of dwarven make. Bowing, he reached for her hand. "I believe it's my turn, Beautiful."

She let him lead her back to the dance floor, but was so busy scanning the crowd that she could not attend to the story he was telling her, about nobles she'd never met. He passed her to another woman – this time an elf – who was shy behind her delicate leather mask carved with deer and painted with flowers. The elf led her through a few paces, stumbling once and then tripping over Lise's feet another time – and both of them seemed relieved when a tall man cut in.

His dancing was elegant, but he moved with a speed that made Lise feel a little out of breath. He seemed to be guiding her towards the edge of the crowd; as they danced, she looked up and saw that he was dressed in robes and wore a golden mask shaped like the face of a lion. He smiled down at her. "I am so glad that you found me, my love." Through his mask, she could see his tawny golden eyes – _wait. Weren't they green?_ – and he leaned closer to her, resting his forehead against hers. "We will never be parted again." He drew her chin up, about to kiss her when she pulled back.

"_No_. This isn't right. You're not the one I'm looking for." His sudden look of pain was almost too much for her to bear; she was about to step back towards him when another figure – another elf – wearing solid black with white hair, silver tattoos and a bluish-silver mask – _lyrium?_ – grabbed her wrist.

"You've got to go, Hawke!" He pointed to the clock, which showed ten minutes to twelve, and pushed her towards a set of stairs. She nodded to him in thanks and lifted her skirts, beginning to run.

The stairs were long, and dark, and twisting, circling round and around on themselves. She felt like she'd climbed up at least sixteen flights – her feet were aching and there was a cramp in her side – when the ceiling opened and she found herself stepping out onto a tower. There was a storm raging – _that's right, it was pouring, wasn't it? I remember the thunder_. But there was also a figure waiting for her, wearing robes of black and gold that she felt should be very familiar. He was turned away, resting against the railing; as she approached, she could see that they were far above the city of Kirkwall. Farther than she knew she'd climbed.

As she stepped closer to the figure, she realized that there was something off about it. The robes fit differently from what she'd expected, and he was so very _tall_ - double her height, if she had to guess. As he turned, pulling off his mask – she saw barely enough to identify it as a phoenix - he lowered his hood and she stopped in shock; it was a qunari, and the biggest one she'd ever seen. Massive horns curved above his head, fangs glinted cruelly, and his grey eyes were slitted with anger. He pointed at her, shouting. She tried to hear what he said, but the driving rain was too loud.

He made a step towards her, and she backed up. Another step forward for him, and another step back for her; then, she felt the railing catch her knees from behind. _Was it so low to the ground? How was he leaning against it?_ Then, the qunari raised a hand and she ducked, lost her footing, and began to fall, down into the storm, into the blackness, into the night. The city should have been getting closer, but instead it just seemed to move farther from her, until the blackness swallowed her and she could no longer think.

* * *

><p>Hawke lay unconscious in the throne room for several hours, as Orsino would not let anyone move her until he was certain it would not do her more harm. When Isabela railed at him - "Why can't you just <em>magic<em> her back, you charlatan?" - he blinked, then turned to her with a look that made Fenris wince. He'd seen the First Enchanter many times, but the mage had never looked as angry or desperate as he did today.

"My dear Isabela," Orsino said, through gritted teeth. "While you may have had the luck to have only needed healing magic for smaller injuries, such as arrow wounds or diseases-" Varric snickered "- healing on this scale is _much_ different. I'm not just _healing_, I'm having to replace things, put things back in their proper places, and in a few cases, grow new tissue. Lise is badly wounded, and there are several internal organs that may or may not need to be regrown. Now, if you are done being dramatic, may I _please continue my work_?" Isabela blinked, then shut her mouth, and everyone backed up another few steps.

Finally, after pouring several restorative potions down Lise's throat and drinking quite a few himself, he got to his feet, looking haggard. The sun was slanting through the Keep windows by this point – Meredith had long since left to begin the arduous process of getting the city back under control so that order could be regained – but she'd left several templars behind as guards. He turned to one of them.

"Will you send word to the Knight-Commander? I believe Serah Hawke is at least stabilized and we are going to move her to the Hawke estate. I will work better there once the patient is in bed and I have access to hot water, clean bandages, and supplies." The templar nodded, moving quickly away.

Orsino then turned to Fenris. "If you would, my friend?" The lyrium-tattooed elf nodded, and gently lifted Hawke as Orsino held open the door. They met Aveline and some of her guards outside the throne room; the Guard-Captain's face was white, but she did not seem to be wounded.

"You'll need us to clear a path, I'm afraid. Meredith's instituted a curfew until the city is at least somewhat normalized, but it doesn't go into effect until twilight. And all of Kirkwall wants a glimpse of their new Champion."

Everyone blinked at her. "Champion? What does _that_ mean?" Varric asked.

She shook her head. "I'll go into it later. Right now, we need to get Hawke out of here."

It took them a while to get out of the Keep – Fenris was doing his best to carry her carefully and slowly – and when the double doors opened into the Viscount's Way they saw what Aveline meant. The qunari bodies had already been disposed of, although the scorch marks from Orsino's fireballs could still be seen, and a crowd of people gathered at the bottom of the steps. A few of them attempted to raise a chorus of, "Hip hip for the Champion," but when Fenris emerged with Hawke's limp body in his arms it quickly died away. The guards forced the citizens back to the sides of the colonnade, and the little group made its way to the estate.

* * *

><p>Anders was already waiting inside, looking frantic as he paced before the fireplace; as soon as they were inside he ran forward. "Is she all right?"<p>

Orsino stepped up, and the two men eyed one another. "She's dangerously hurt," the First Enchanter said, shaking his head. "I've done what I could to stabilize her, but I'll need to do a lot more work. She tells me that you're an accomplished healer, Anders – will you help me?" The raw pain in his voice was unmistakable, and it tore at the apostate's heart.

_If I help him, then when she wakes I will have as good as given her to him._ He winced._ But the thought of losing her – never seeing that smile again, never hearing that laugh – I can't do it. I'd rather give her away a thousand times than to see her die, knowing I could have helped her_. He cleared his throat, and nodded. "If you need me, I will do what I can."

Orsino closed his eyes and put a grateful hand on Anders' shoulder. "Thank you, my friend," he said, quietly. Fenris had already carried Lise to her room, and they followed shortly behind.

* * *

><p>That night, Meredith came by the estate to fetch Orsino, and the two stepped onto the balcony to discuss Hawke's health.<p>

"The Guard-Captain says you've named her Champion of Kirkwall," Orsino said, crossing his arms. "Considering that she's still on death's doorstep, do you think that's wise?"

The Knight-Commander looked at him. "Then it is _your_ job to see that she does _not_ die. After such a disaster, Kirkwall needs a Champion. It is the only thing that can help them to forget that, for now, they have no Viscount. They _need_ to know that there are citizens who will fight for everything this city stands for, and for its protection." She turned, and began to pace. "You will need to stay nearby until she is out of danger, I assume?"

He nodded, watching her stride across the small space. "Unless you can think of any mage you might trust more." He didn't mention Anders; there was no need to, and there was no way he was going to leave Lise to anyone else's care but his own.

She turned and glared at him. "I trust _no_ mage, but _you_ at least I am relatively sure are not corrupt, even if you _have_ tried my patience this past year. And as you are friends with Serah Hawke, I can accept that you may feel some concern for her." She began to walk again. "I will station Ser Cullen here to watch the estate – he will report anything to me that I may need to know – and he will see to it that you return once her care is complete."

Orsino shrugged; it could have been worse. He and Cullen were not exactly friends, but they respected one another, and the Knight-Captain respected Hawke as well. "Very well, Knight-Commander. Now, may I return to my patient?" She nodded in exasperation and waved him away, and he went back to rejoin Anders at Hawke's bedside.

* * *

><p>Between the two of them, they were able to heal her body, although there was a day's anxiety over her head wound as they could not tell how dangerous it was and as she was not conscious, they could not test it. Slowly, however, even it seemed to heal, yet Lise did not awaken. By the third day, Orsino felt nearly frantic, though he would not let it show.<p>

He and Fenris stood at her bedside – Anders had wanted to remain but he would not abandon his clinic, especially with all of the wounded pouring in from the qunari attacks – and Orsino gently took Lise's hand. "I can feel her pulse, it's normal. Her temperature is fine; occasionally she moves slightly, murmuring as if in a dream. But I can't wake her up." He looked at Fenris, who shrugged, miserably.

"If there is ever anything good to be had from magic, now would be the time for it to happen," he said, frowning down at her. He shook her shoulder. "Hawke? Hawke. Wake up!" She did not respond, and he turned to Orsino. "If you love her, _find a way to bring her back_."

He left the room, leaving Orsino at her side. The mage sat back down beside the bed, taking Hawke's hand again in both of his and resting his head upon it. "_Lise, you have to come back. I don't think there's anyone in this house right now that could function if you left us. Don't give the Arishok a belated victory, _emma lath."

When Merrill looked in an hour later to let Pouncy – who would not stop scratching at the door – into the room, she saw Orsino, his head still on Lise's hand, fast asleep. She shook her head, then closed the door quietly as the kitten jumped onto the bed and curled up on Hawke's chest.

* * *

><p><strong>Emma lath: <strong>my love.

_As always, the characters belong to Bioware. I just use them._


	20. Happiness

_Another long one, but they tend to be long when they're fluffy, and this is very much so. It's what I've _wanted_ to write since I started - they've been through a lot and I'm glad to give them something nice. So begins the happy chapters - as with Act 2 I plan on Act 3 taking place over a longer period, so they have a bit of time before things start getting too hectic. _**Also!**_ I know I don't have a lot of people following this, so those of you who are - our happy couple is getting closer, so shall I keep things to a T rating or give them a bit of M time? I will probably write the latter anyway, but I can always just make it available if people ask. If you've got any thoughts, feel free to let me know - send a PM if you wish. _

_The story is far from over :)_

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><p><em>Ch. 20, in which the hero and heroine find happiness, together.<em>

After drifting through darkness for longer than she could track – there was no time in the blackness, it was more _nothing_ than it was _something_ – Hawke began to notice a very faint sense of breathlessness. It grew stronger at the same time that she began to feel other sensations; a pressure on one of her hands, a faintly nauseous feeling in her stomach, a warmth against her face. The warmth also seemed to be soft, and rather furry; she tried to open her eyes, but the light only marginally increased. After a while, she regained control of her neck and attempted to raise her head; at the first sign of movement Pouncy jumped down off her face and, protesting, curled back up beside her. As soon as the kitten moved, she found that she could see perfectly well, although everything was dim. Slowly looking around, she realized that this was because her curtains had been drawn and her fire was banked.

Holding her head up made the nauseous feeling a bit stronger, and her head hurt a little. She lay back against the pillow, closing her eyes; when she opened them again she realized she must have dozed because she was thirstier, Pouncy was at the foot of her bed, and someone had stirred the fire so that it now gave off more light. The pressure on her hand was still there, however; she turned her head and her breath caught when she saw Orsino seated at her side, her hand clasped in his, his cheek resting on it as he slept. A small smile tugged at her lips; she'd never seen him sleep before, and he looked younger – but not as peaceful as she would have wished.

Vaguely, she wondered just what had happened. She remembered the fight, the Arishok – she remembered the hideous pain of his axe, and then the warmth of his blood on her hand as she drove the knife through his ribs; she remembered Orsino's frantic face as he dropped to her side, but nothing else.

At the moment, however, that was only the second thing on her mind. The fact that he was here, at her side, in the place she'd dreamed for him so many times over the past few months – that was a miracle. The feelings she'd had before the qunari disaster – that the distance between them was too far – had melted the minute she saw his face in the square; she realized that she could have gone back to him any time, that the pain of the last few months had been of her own making, because she'd been a fool. Perhaps, however, they'd needed that distance. She did know that having almost lost him, she was never going to let the same thing happen again - damn the Circle, damn Meredith, damn anyone who said differently. She needed to let him know her feelings, even if he didn't return them.

Slowly – both because she still felt awful and because she didn't want to wake him – she drew her hand out from between his and laid it on top of his head, stroking his hair. This made her smile again, as she'd often wanted to do it and had always wondered how it would feel; his hair was soft and she could just barely feel his rhythmic breathing. She was just noticing that he'd changed into the green and gold robes from Midwinter when he stirred; she moved her hand as his eyes opened and he lifted his head quickly to look at her. She felt her cheeks flame the minute their eyes met, and the joy in his was unmistakable. He took her hand, bringing it to his lips; kissing the palm, he whispered, "_Aneth era, emma sa'lath._"

Lise raised her head slowly – wincing a bit at the headache, and smiled at him, a little uncertainly. "Orsino? You never taught me any elven, you know."

He straightened up, still holding her hand, and continued to meet her eyes; he flushed slightly as he cleared his throat. "It means, 'welcome back, my beloved one.'"

Her eyes widened, and she took her hand from his and reached out to touch his cheek. "I love you, Orsino. I should have told you months ago, but I was a coward. Now, I find that I don't care any more about what anyone else may think." Her smile widened, and as it did, she felt her eyes fill although she kept herself from crying.

He turned his head, kissing her palm again, and then shook his head although his smile matched hers. "Don't talk about the past, Lise. Not now, at least. We were equally to blame and we've both paid the price. Right now, I don't want to talk about the past _or_ the future – I just want to cherish the fact that you're here, awake and alive. And that, against all probability, you return the feelings that I was sure were merely the foolish dreams of an old elf."

Lise chuckled and shook her head. "I've told you before, you're _not_ old, Orsino. And if you're foolish, so am I, but that's all right. We can be fools together." She attempted to move closer towards him, but her stomach turned and she winced, lying back again.

"Be careful, my dear. You almost died; you've been unconscious for four days now and everyone has been beside themselves with worry." He stood and then cautiously sat down on the bed beside her, shifting so that she could lean her head against his shoulder; turning his head, he kissed her forehead. "Anders and I have been taking care of you for a while, now – without him I don't know if I could have saved you. It pains me to admit that I was not able to do it by myself, but he is a better healer than I; we can finish the healing now that you are awake and we can judge what you need, but I want to wait for him to arrive before I try anything." He slid an arm around her waist, holding her carefully; as much as he wanted to gather her in his arms and hold her tightly, he knew it would hurt her far too badly at the moment.

She nestled against him, the warmth of his closeness soothing her aches a little. "Dear Anders," she said. "And dear Orsino. I owe you both thanks, then. I knew the Arishok was going to do a number on me, but I didn't count on him cleaving me _almost_ in half. I figured it'd be an all-or-nothing situation."

Orsino shuddered. "Please don't say that, love. And don't thank me – even if I hadn't helped save you out of selfishness because I could not bear to lose you, I had at least ten other people who would have _killed_ me if I'd walked away. I even received a command from Meredith to be sure you didn't die."

Lise blinked. "That's a little extreme for her, isn't it?"

He grimaced. "Well, extreme has started to apply to her more and more these past months, but that aside, no. You're the Champion of Kirkwall, my dear, and it wouldn't do to have the Champion die from something as simple as a blow from the Arishok's axe. You need to wait for an Archdemon or perhaps an entire legion of qunari."

She moved her head from his shoulder to look at him. "_Champion_? Maker, _why_?"

He laughed. "I think it has something to do with the fact that you single-handedly defeated the Arishok in a duel, thereby causing the qunari to take their Tome of Koslun and leave, post-haste. A fifth of the city is burned or damaged and about a hundred citizens perished; overall, considering what was at stake, we came away incredibly lucky."

"They did go, then? I thought they would, but I wasn't sure. I knew the Arishok was honourable - as far as that went - but was afraid some of the others might try to make trouble."

"Indeed they did leave, as evidenced by the fact that we are still in your lovely estate, living debauched lives, and I am not collared and chained as a _bas saarebas_."

She pressed closer to him at this statement, closing her eyes. Moving her hand so that she could twine her fingers with his, she shook her head. "I couldn't ever let anyone do that to you, Orsino. I don't care what happens – I'll stand in the way of anyone who ever tries something like that."

He smiled, albeit a bit sadly, and nodded. "I know, love," he murmured, and kissed her forehead again. "Thank you. But we can talk about that another time." He raised his head as the clock in the foyer chimed, and then began to slowly get off the bed. She looked at him, puzzled. He smiled – couldn't resist kissing her cheek – and then as he stood, shaking the cat hair off his robe, said, "Anders should be here any time now, and I want to finish your treatments today. And as we both know how he feels about you, I think it's best if we're circumspect. Not to mention that Cullen may look in at any time, and I'd rather this not get back to Meredith."

Lise nodded. "I understand; most of my companions and all of my staff would be discreet, but we will have to be careful if we wish to guard our future." She looked up at him, quickly, a flicker of unease in her eyes. "We _do_ have a future, Orsino?"

His eyes were darker than usual as he reached over and carefully placed his palm against her cheek. She leaned against him as he nodded. "I don't know how we'll manage it, or what we'll be able to achieve, but I couldn't let you go again even if I had to, Lise."

She mouthed, "I love you," to him just as they heard voices from the foyer; he stood back up and turned to the door, calling "Come in," when someone tapped. Anders stuck his head in, and a wave of relief washed over his face when he saw her propped up in bed. "Hawke!"

Lise held her hand out towards him. "Anders. Orsino tells me I am to thank you for my good health."

He flushed, moving quickly to take it. "Don't thank me, Hawke. You've saved us enough times, I couldn't let you down _now_." He looked at Orsino, then cleared his throat. "The First Enchanter did most of it."

Orsino shook his head. "Not true, my friend – you're the reason she's here now." When Anders shook his head, he shrugged. "Now that she's awake, would you examine her? I think we can probably finish up today, so that she can be up and about tomorrow -" he saw Lise's hopeful expression and put a hand on her shoulder "-up and about _carefully_. My dear, you'll still be on house watch for at least a week." She glared.

Anders chuckled. "_Physicians orders, _Hawke."

She sighed. "All right, all right. Bullies. Just do your worse, then, will you? I want to go and see my garden." She looked towards the curtained window. "I hope it's all right, and hasn't wilted too badly."

"You think Merrill and Orana would let that happen?" The apostate smiled at her, taking her wrist in his hand. "Where does it hurt, Hawke?"

* * *

><p>It took them another hour or two until both men were satisfied by their success. When they had finished, Orsino put a hand on her forehead softly and said, "My dear, you should rest now. You can get up after dinner, but I want you to sleep for now." Anders frowned at his tone, and the frown deepened when he saw the look she gave Orsino as she nodded up at him, yawning.<p>

"I'm tired, so I think I will. And I can pretend it was my own idea. Thank you." She turned to Anders. "Are you leaving now?"

He nodded, trying to smile for her. "I'm afraid I have to. I still have a lot of patients to see to – the docks and Lowtown were hit pretty badly when the qunari stormed through on the way to the Keep, and I can't leave the clinic for more than a few hours at a time."

She yawned again. "If I get the doctors' permission-" she smiled at them both "-I may invite everyone to the estate for dinner tonight. That way I can see everyone at once, but still get to bed early. Will you come?"

His gaze flickered towards Orsino and he shrugged. "I will try, but I can't promise anything." He leaned over, and gently hugged her. "But I'm so glad you're awake, Hawke. You scared us all – don't ever do that again. If you need to take on a qunari giant, send Fenris in."

Lise laughed. "All right, Anders. I'll try to remember that, although I doubt Fenris would appreciate that order." He walked to the door and when he turned back, she gave him a small wave. "Good bye."

When the door closed, Orsino leaned over and gave her a soft kiss on the lips – the temptation to linger was strong, but she was falling asleep and he knew she needed rest – then tucked her in. "I'll be back in before dinner to check on you. While you're asleep I'll send out messages to your friends; Orana has been beside herself with worry for you and I know she'd cook for an army if you asked it."

She chuckled, already turning over a little to find a comfortable spot on her pillow. "They may _eat_ like an army, but they're not _quite _an army. Thank you, Orsino. I love you."

"I love you too, Lise." He watched from the door for a moment as her eyes drifted shut, then closed the door quietly behind him.

* * *

><p>When he came down the stairs into the foyer, Anders was still standing in front of the fire. "You two talked, didn't you?" The bitterness was strong in his voice.<p>

Orsino sighed; he hadn't wanted to have this conversation, but he'd realized it was inevitable. "We did, Anders. After she woke and before you arrived."

The apostate shook his head, looking disgusted. "I don't know what she sees in you. You weren't even _here_ when her mother died. If you love her so much, why the hell did you leave her here for so many months? _Alone_?"

The First Enchanter looked towards the window; Leandra's death was still painful to him, as he knew it would be even more for her – he still felt that he was partially to blame – but that was none of Anders' business. "Lise came to me the morning after her mother died," he said, quietly. "It was on her wishes that I stayed away for so long. She told me, distinctly, '_I cannot see you_.' If she said such a thing to you, would you go against it? If you knew it was _truly_ her wish? Believe me when I say that every day away was an agony."

Anders frowned, thinking of all the time he was absent on his own wish not to see _her_, but he shook his head, stubbornly. "And what kind of life do you think you'll be able to give her? Are you going to make her stay here, pining for you, while you roll over and expose your throat to the Chantry, letting them do whatever they wish to you and all those you allow the templars to subjugate?"

Slowly, Orsino looked back from the window. He crossed his arms, a grim look settling on his brow. "Firstly, Anders, it's none of your business. Lise has made her choice, and I think she's an intelligent woman, don't you? Secondly, I fail to see how an apostate on the constant run from the Chantry and templars could give her any _more_ of a normal life. But that aside, your other comments were rude and uncalled for. If you wish to discuss the Gallows and my oversight of the Circle then we can, at your convenience – but I will _not_ argue in _her_ house while she is asleep and still recovering!" His eyes narrowed. "I love her, Anders, and I will do what I can to keep her as happy as I can. But I do not feel that I need to discuss any other aspect of our relationship with anyone else but Lise."

Anders glared back at Orsino. "Fine, it's none of my business – I'm sure _she'd_ tell me the same thing. But if you hurt her, so help me-"

Orsino shook his head. "If I hurt her, Anders, then you or any of her friends have every right to hunt me down and take your penance from my hide."

"Pretty words – we'll see if they play out." Anders looked at Orsino for a long moment, then turned on his heel. "Tell her to send for me if she needs anything."

* * *

><p>After his discussion with Anders, Orsino sat down in her study to send out notes to everyone else. He'd already consulted with Orana, who was delighted to make, as she termed it, "a fine feast to tempt Mistress Hawke's appetite." Halfway through his correspondence, Ser Cullen looked in on him.<p>

"How is the Champion, First Enchanter?"

"She woke this afternoon and I gave her what I hope is her last treatment. She's asleep for the moment and I'm in the process of sending invitations to her friends to come to dinner so that everyone can see that she's alive, well, and hopefully healthy. Will you join us, Knight-Captain?" He couldn't keep the smile from his voice when he said "alive, well, and hopefully healthy," but he figured that Cullen would most likely attribute it to pride in his work as well as relief over a friend.

The templar smiled, looking relieved. "I am glad to hear it, and I would be glad to join everyone for dinner. Orana is quite a good cook." They both laughed a bit, but then Cullen frowned. "The Knight-Commander did request that you return to the Gallows once Serah Hawke is well again..."

Orsino sighed mentally, but he'd expected this. "I would like to observe her tonight and check her health in the morning; provided she's still doing well we can leave afterwards. Is that acceptable?"

Cullen nodded. "I will send Meredith a note tonight to make her aware. Thank you, First Enchanter. I'm sure her friends will say the same thing, as will Hawke herself."

When he'd left, Orsino finished the notes, giving them to Bodahn to have delivered to their respective recipients. Once that was done, he quietly let himself back into her room, taking his chair beside her bed; sitting back, he watched her sleep while he thought, objectively, about their situation.

He loved her and she loved him, he knew that. He was also a mage of the Circle – there was nothing he could offer her beyond a continuation of what they'd already had, with perhaps a few more stolen moments alone – and that was assuming that Meredith didn't change her mind at some point about allowing him to come and go, or Lise to visit. Was it fair to her? Obviously, she knew what the limitations were, or would be – but would it just make it worse for them in the end? If they were somehow separated and could _not_ see each other again, would having acknowledged such a relationship make it worse?

He sighed, leaning forward. _Does it matter? If she wishes me to go, and to merely remain friends, then I will abide by that – but no matter what, we _have_ acknowledged it. Abandoning it now would just make the pain that much worse, that much sooner. And who knows? Perhaps fate will smile on us. Perhaps we will be allowed to stay by each others' side – even at a distance – forever._

She rolled over and he brought his focus back to the bed for a moment, then smiled as he watched her hair spill across the pillow. _She loves me. I never even thought it was possible. I'd like to think 'oh, I wish I'd known so much earlier,' but I don't know if I _do_. There's something sweet about wishing for her for so long and then one day, waking up to realize that I have her. In the end, that's enough; if I never get to do anything other than kiss her hand on occasion as we spend warm evenings by the fire, I will be happy. I see now why Emeric stayed for Mharen – just seeing her smile is worth the world._

The clock chimed seven then and he knew that her friends would be arriving soon. Standing, he leaned over, taking another moment to memorize her sleeping face – _how often will I get the chance to see her sleep? –_ and then kissed her softly. She woke slowly, her eyelids fluttering open, and when she saw his face above her, she smiled.

"Mmmm. The prince wakes the princess with a kiss, is it?" She slid her arms around his neck and brought him back down for another kiss – this time longer and deeper than any previously. It was not precisely _risqué_ – after all, she was still recovering – but it was warm enough that they both pulled back, blushing, when a cough from the doorway interrupted them.

Varric stood in the doorway, grinning. "I was wondering when the two of you would stop that moping ridiculousness and finally get together."

"Varric!" She sat up in bed and he came in, holding a bouquet, which he handed to her.

"Welcome back, Beautiful. You nearly gave us all a heart attack, you know." He leaned over when she held out her hands and gave her a hug, then a peck on the cheek. "Between Blondie, Broody, and Robes I've had enough despair to last a lifetime, thankyouverymuch."

Orsino leaned back, chuckling. "Yes, because you yourself were so _very_ calm and untroubled. Who was it that kept threatening to hunt all the qunari left in the Free Marches down and make them pay?" It was clear to Hawke that he and Varric had been getting along well in the past few days, and she was glad.

Varric shrugged. "It was Rivaini that kept swearing that she was going to steal a ship and sail to Par Vollen. I think Broody would have taken her up on it, too." He looked back at Lise, smirking. "Anyway, Beautiful. You're probably going to be inundated soon, so you might want to go ahead and get ready for the onslaught."

"I'll send Orana in, then, to help you get changed. Have her come get me when you're ready to come downstairs to the study." Orsino leaned over and kissed Lise on the cheek, and she smiled at him.

* * *

><p>Dinner was an enjoyable affair. Everyone came except for Anders – Hawke was sad to see this, but Orsino had told her the basics of their conversation – though not the details – and she understood, though it made her unhappy. Everyone else, however, was in high spirits – they ate and talked and drank and even Fenris was positively chipper – until Orsino finally chased everyone out a few hours before midnight. "Lise has to rest, but she'll be confined to the estate for the rest of the week-" she groaned "-so you can come annoy her then since she won't be able to escape."<p>

He helped her to her room, leaving so that Orana could get her ready for bed, and then came back in. "Cullen is letting me stay here for another night to observe you, and then I will have to leave tomorrow after another examination, love."

She frowned, and sighed. "I know. I knew it would happen – but it's been so wonderful seeing you here, around the estate. I know you'll be able to visit, but... you _belong_ here, Orsino."

He looked down at her, sadly. "I feel the same way, but what can we do?"

Lise reached her hands to him. "Come sit with me?" He smiled, moving to sit beside her on the bed again, and she leaned against him. She was happy to note that she was no longer feeling nauseous _or_ headachy, although she still felt tired.

He wrapped an arm around her then kissed her – _her lips are so soft_, he thought, wonderingly. After a while they pulled apart and she sighed, resting her forehead on his shoulder. "Will you still be able to come most afternoons and evenings?"

Orsino nodded. "I think so. Things are tighter for the mages now, but I still have some level of acceptance from Meredith, and as you're the Champion I think that will go a ways towards keeping things normal, provided we don't abuse it. But Lise... love..." He sighed. "I'm a mage of the Circle. I can't ever give you a home, or marriage. And while I would love to say that we can at least spend every evening together again until the end, I can't even promise that. Fade knows when Meredith will get it into her head to lock us up wholesale."

Lise shook her head, reaching up to cover his mouth for a moment. "Stop it, Orsino. I don't care. I mean, I _do_ – I know we've only just started talking about this, but I've loved you for what feels like forever, and I _do_ want to be with you forever. I _want_ to have a home with you. But what are the alternatives? We give each other up – which I'm not willing to do – or we accept what we have and make the best of it."

His arm tightened around her waist and he turned to her, resting his forehead against hers for a long moment. He sighed, but there was a soft smile on his face. "Even if I hadn't already decided the same, _emm'asha_, your every word would be my command. As I said earlier, I couldn't give you up, even if I had to. You're stuck with me."

She smiled, running her hand up his cheek and through his hair. "I can think of much, much worse things, Orsino. But you'll have to start teaching me elven soon if you plan on continuing to pepper your speech with it."

The mage chuckled, kissing her. "I will gladly do so, love." Moving closer to her ear, he murmured, "Although my methods of teaching might differ from Merrill's."

Hawke blushed. "Well, as long as you don't frolic..." He laughed and kissed her again, but she interrupted after a few minutes with a yawn, then a blush of embarrassment. "_Maker_, Orsino – I'm so sorry!"

He smiled. "Don't be, dearest. You need your rest." He began to get up off the bed but she put her hand on his arm.

"Don't go? You're already going to sit and watch, and probably fall asleep on the edge of my bed. Won't you sleep with me? I don't know if we'll ever get the chance to again." Her cheeks were pink and she looked embarrassed, but there was a wistfulness in her eyes that made his heart contract.

Orsino nodded. "I've woken many nights from dreams of holding you in my arms, and even if tonight is the only time I can, then at least I will have a memory of it." He got up and slid under the covers next to her, letting her settle first, then he curled up behind her, wrapping her carefully in his arms. Her hair smelled like honeysuckle and the feel of her lying against him was intoxicating, but he was so immersed in feelings of _can I really be this lucky_? that he found it easier to ignore the physical implications that he'd expected. Tonight wasn't about anything other than a brief moment of respite, and the ability to hold the woman he loved.

"Good night, Orsino. I love you."

"I love you too, Lise. Goodnight, _emma vhenan_."

* * *

><p><strong>Aneth ara<strong> (_AH-neth AH-rah_): A sociable or friendly greeting, more commonly used among the Dalish themselves rather than with outsiders. Literally: "My safe place".

**emma sa'lath** (_EHM-mah sah-lath_): my one love.

**bas saarebas:** Non-qunari mage.

**emm'asha **(_ehm-AH-shah_): my girl.

**emma vhenan **(_EHM-ma VEY-nahn_):my heart.

_As always, the characters belong to Bioware, I just use them._


	21. Champion of Kirkwall

_I'm leaving Lise and Orsino to their privacy; they're a very quiet couple. That doesn't mean I won't make non-censored versions of some of these later chapters available under an M rating, but this version of the story will stay tasteful. I'm having too much fun writing about them together. Good thing there'll be drama soon enough to shake it up. ;) -note- there is an extended bedroom scene available under Behind Closed Doors: Excerpts from A Sane Mage, if that's your style. Beware fluffy purple prose and lots of sap._

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><p><em>Ch. 21, featuring closed doors, oaths, reunions, and a moment of peace.<em>

The next morning, Hawke woke from vaguely pleasant dreams; she had a split second of _where am I and who is touching me _when she realized she wasn't alone, but it passed nearly immediately. She lay on her side, Orsino's arms wrapped around her, and she could just barely feel his breath against her neck. Smiling, she moved her head slightly to kiss the hand that lay on top of the covers and from behind her, he murmured in her ear, "Good morning, love."

She shivered slightly – his voice was so low and so close, and it sharply illustrated the fact that they were together, _alone, _in her bed, and there wasn't likely anyone else who would come in. Orana had already stirred the fire – the thought that she'd seen them together made Lise blush, but she also realized Orana wouldn't likely _care_ - and although Ser Cullen was staying at the manor, she knew he was the sort who would never come into a woman's bedroom without explicit permission. She shifted a little, turning over carefully in Orsino's arms.

He was looking at her with the happiest, _proudest_ expression in his green eyes, and her heart skipped. "Sleep well?" he asked, smiling as he reached over to tuck a stray curl behind her ear.

Lise nodded. "I did. I think I dreamt that we were out in a field of flowers, picnicking. Not much to it, but... it was nice."

Orsino nodded. "That does sound nice. Usually, when I have dreams I can remember, that's what they're like. I think most mages are like that – we dream of the common, everyday things that most of us will never experience outside of the tower." She began to frown but he kissed her, softly. "None of that now, love."

After a while spent just lying together, he shifted. "Speaking of dreams... you were out so for long, for so many days... I assumed you were dreaming, in the Fade. Do you remember anything? Or would you rather not speak of it?"

She shook her head. "I don't mind, love. I'll tell you whatever you'd like – but I don't really remember anything. I've had a few flashes that were more confusing than they were of any help. All I can remember is a vague sense that I was searching for someone. Mother and Carver at first, and then someone else." She looked up at him, smiling, and touched his cheek. "I guess that's why I finally woke up. The only place I knew I could find you was here."

Orsino smiled and kissed her again. After a few minutes she pulled back. "You smell like pine, and your hair is wet."

He chuckled. "I woke up much earlier, when Orana came in to light the fire, and asked her if she could help me fill the bath. I realized that I'd been sleeping by your bed for several days, so I probably needed it. I hope you don't mind – I found the soap in your wash room, and it smelled so very nice."

Lise smiled. "Love, anything that's mine is yours. I can send some back with you if you'd like – I make it myself. I've got lavender, mint, jasmine, and rose as well, but the pine probably suits you the best." She leaned her forehead against his. "But I see now that you're out of your mage robes, and that's _such_ a pity."

A look of comprehension dawned in his eyes and he laughed. "Is _that_ why Varric calls me 'Robes'?"

She blushed, and nodded. "Well, he came up with it himself, but yes, it was to tease me. I happen to be very fond of them, you see."

"I'll have to remember that, then." He looked down at her, and she noticed that his eyes had grown dark again. "You seem to be feeling well, my dear." He leaned over, placing a lingering kiss on her earlobe, and she whimpered softly. A slow smile spread across his face. "I'm supposed to make sure that you've got a clean bill of health." Lise nodded slowly, staring into his eyes. He slid a hand down her side – she could feel its warmth through her nightdress – and softly touched her stomach, where the wound had been, and where there was now a well-healed, jagged scar. He pressed his lips to her neck, murmuring "How does that feel?"

She nodded, biting her lip. "It feels... fine." She cleared her throat, whispering, "Better than fine."

* * *

><p>A few hours later, after breakfast, she followed him down into the foyer to join Ser Cullen, who was finishing a cup of tea. He rose to his feet when he saw her, and bowed. "Champion. I am overjoyed to see that you're well enough to be up and about."<p>

Lise laughed. "Please, Ser Cullen. I've heard of the honour that the Knight-Commander has bestowed upon me, but I still want my friends to call me Hawke."

He smiled. "Very well, then, Hawke." He looked at Orsino. "Is she well?"

The mage nodded, resisting the urge to say, "No, she's dangerously ill and will need me at her side for at least another few days." As much as he'd love to try, he knew that pushing the limits could put them in danger with Meredith; and now, he had everything in the world to protect. Still, it was at least a nice thought. He cleared his throat. "Quite well, although I don't want her going farther than the garden for a week, especially in the heat with the dust and noise from the reconstruction. I'll come back daily to check on her."

The templar nodded. "Then if you will excuse us, Serah? The Knight-Commander is expecting us, I believe."

She bowed to both of them, trying to hold back the blush and smile when she looked at Orsino. Cullen left first, and then Orsino looked back briefly and smiled at her, and she gave him a little wave. When the door was closed behind him, she sank down onto the bench in the foyer, pressing her hands to her cheeks, trying not to grin _too_ much.

* * *

><p>When Varric came to visit an hour later, she was in the study responding to the enormous pile of letters, notes, and cards that had accumulated since her duel with the Arishok. Varric and Bodhan had answered the few that seemed to need immediate attention, but the rest were either well-wishes or invitations, attempts to curry favour, or all three. She'd looked outside at the yard, but it <em>was<em> too hot – she'd have to wait until evening – and there wasn't much else she could do until then. So she sat, humming as she wrote, until she was startled by a "Hello there, Beautiful," from behind her. He laughed as she caught the inkwell just before it tipped.

"Varric, don't _do_ that!"

Observing her for a moment, he gave a sly grin. "So I hear that Robes stayed the night."

She was suddenly very interested in making sure she hadn't gotten any ink on the note she was writing to the Comtesse de Launcet. "Of course he did – he still had to give me an examination today, after all."

"Mmm. 'Examination,' eh?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Hawke, you're glowing, blushing, and _humming_, for Andraste's sake."

Lise laughed, sitting back. "All right, all right. I should know I can't lie to you."

He grinned again. "Damned straight, you can't. How was it?"

She gave him a Look. "I'm _not_ giving you details, Varric."

"But then I'll have to make them up, and-" he ducked, laughing, as she threw a crumpled piece of paper at him. "_Ancestors._ I yield. Mercy, Champion, mercy!" Lise grinned.

"Well, I can tell you one thing. You were certainly off the mark when you called him tame." She blushed and the two of them burst out laughing again.

"It's good to hear you laugh, Beautiful. It's been a long time." He sat down on the divan. "How are you two going to handle it, though?"

She shrugged, frowning a bit. "I don't know. I guess we'll just make do. We can still visit each other, so we've got evenings; we may just have to accept it as the best it's going to be." She couldn't frown for long, though; the smiles kept breaking through. "I'm just happy he's back."

"I can tell. It's a kind of sickening."

She rolled her eyes. "Would you rather spend the afternoon reading letters addressed to 'the esteemed Champion of Kirkwall'? Apparently with the Viscount dead, I am _the_ most popular person in this damned city. Maybe I'll just steal Orsino and run away to Rivain or somewhere equally impossible to reach. I'd say Tevinter, but then Fenris would never visit."

Varric laughed. "Sure, actually. Throw me a few – I could use a good chuckle."

* * *

><p>They were sitting that way, laughing as he read them out in snooty mock-society voices, then coming up with the most absurd ways in which to answer the letters that would still impress the recipients, when Merrill walked into the room, carrying a basket.<p>

"Hullo, Daisy," Varric said. "Didn't hear you at the door."

"Oh, I slipped in the back. I wanted to come see Hawke but I didn't want to bother Orana, or that nice dwarf." She put the basket down, pulling out a potted plant, which she carried over in both hands and held out to Lise.

"Merrill, what's this?" She took it; it seemed just to be a normal, if lovely, pot of blue irises.

"When I was taking care of your garden I noticed that there wasn't a lot of blue. So I wanted to bring some over – these are growing _marvellously_ in my back yard. And I wanted to apologize, Hawke. I yelled at you back on Sundermount and I've been such a _seth'lin_ since then. But then you fought the Arishok, and…" The elven mage began to get upset, and Lise got up and hugged her.

"It's ok, Merrill. I should have come by to say 'I'm sorry' a while ago. I was just… not at my best this summer."

Merrill shook her head. "No, Hawke. I know you said what you did because you care about me; I just didn't want to agree with you. But seeing what happened to your mother – thinking about it – I think I'm going to talk to the demon one more time about the _eluvian_, and then give it up if it can't help me. The _arulin'holm_ hasn't helped, so there's got to be _something_ else I can do."

Lise shook her head at Varric, but then nodded at the elf. "If you're truly going to give it up, Merrill, I'll go with you one last time. But this _has_ to be it. And it has to wait a bit – I'm not even allowed out of the estate yet."

Merrill smiled. "Oh, thank you, Hawke! Of course it can wait – we probably don't want to go up Sundermount again until it's cooler." Varric muttered something about 'never cool enough to go outside', but she continued. "It's good to see you looking so well. Is that nice man gone? The elf – the First Enchanter, wasn't he?"

Lise laughed. "Orsino? Yes, he's gone for today but he'll be coming back as often as he used to, I hope."

"That's good. He was awfully upset, you know. But I suppose that's what happens when you care about someone." She hopped up onto one of the library stools sitting around the room. "But then, I always knew you'd have the good sense to fall in love with an elf. It's just a pity he isn't Dalish."

Varric stifled a laugh and Hawke chuckled, but steered the talk away from herself and Orsino. After a bit Merrill left, and Lise and Varric went back to answering her correspondence. They'd just finished when Bodahn came in with another letter. "Wolf just brought this, messere. He said it's from the Gallows."

She sighed, and Varric raised an eyebrow. "What's that for, Hawke? I'd expect you to be all smiles at getting a letter from Robes."

"Well, I'm glad of it, but it most likely means he won't be by tonight. With how long he's been gone, we figured that Meredith would want to keep him around at least for today – Maker knows how many 'blood mages' she's found in the tower in the past week – but I couldn't help hoping." She broke the seal and began to read to herself.

"_Dearest Lise_,

_As we suspected, Meredith has a thousand things for me to do and if I even attempted to leave tonight I think she would have a fit. It's nothing to do with _us – _it's just yet another reason why living in the same building as her is becoming quickly intolerable. Especially if you consider that I'd much rather be living with _you_. _

_That aside, I will certainly be coming to the estate often. She seemed to have no problem when I told her I would need to visit each day for the coming week to check your health – although I warn you, I think she will come with me tomorrow, and that may shorten my visit. But we have been separated for longer times, so as much as I feel the urge to pace my study and count the hours until I'm with you again, I know that I'll be better served by actually seeing to some of the paperwork she's piled upon my desk._

_While Meredith does not yet have my correspondence monitored, I still feel more able to be __particularly free in this letter because I ran into Wolf in the courtyard – probably on some other errand – and bade him wait until I wrote so that he could bring it to you quickly and safely. I've asked him to come see me if he's ever in the Gallows – I haven't been asked _not _to send letters by courier, and until I am, I will utilize him whenever he's available. After all, until someone complains, I can just say that as your errand boy I saw no harm in giving him messages for you._

_I know how annoying it gets for young boys to sit in one place cooling their heels for too long, so I will close this letter – but before I do, let me tell you how much I love you. I still cannot believe that you feel the same way as I – but I will not tempt fate by questioning it. You are the brightest spot in my life, and every moment I'm awake I think of you. This morning was special beyond belief, and each time I think of it I find myself wanting you more._

_I will close now, love, and count the hours until I see you tomorrow._

_Yours,_

_Orsino"_

Lise blushed as she read it, and smiled, and Varric made gagging sounds until she grimaced at him. "Well, he's not coming back tonight, but I expected that. Do you want to stay for dinner?"

* * *

><p>The next morning, shortly before lunch, Meredith came to visit, bringing Orsino. It was hard to keep from smiling too much when she saw him, standing behind the Knight-Commander, but she managed.<p>

"Knight-Commander," she said, bowing. "First Enchanter. Please come in." Calling to Bodahn, she requested tea in the study, and then showed them in.

Meredith and Lise took the chairs by the fire while Orsino sat on the divan; when they were seated, the Knight-Commander wasted no time. "I am glad to see that you are feeling better, Serah Hawke."

Hawke nodded. "Thank you, messere."

"You did a good thing for Kirkwall when you defeated the Arishok. Thanks to the Maker that you managed to pull through. The city needs you, and with all that you have done for its citizens, I felt it only fitting to name you Champion of Kirkwall."

Bowing her head, Lise quietly demurred as she knew was appropriate. "It was merely my duty, Knight-Commander. I'm sure that anyone else in my situation would have done the same."

"But no one else _did_, and in fact, I think it is time that the nobles – cowards, all of them – see what it means to serve one's city as well as the will of the Maker. I – _we_ – will be depending on you, Champion, to see to the defense of Kirkwall, as well as the protection of her citizens and the upholding of her laws." She held out her hand with the Knight-Commander's seal of the Chantry upon her forefinger. "As we have no Viscount, it falls to me to take your oath. Will you swear to do this, Serah Hawke?"

Lise took her hand and kissed the ring. "I do swear, Knight-Commander. I will protect Kirkwall and her citizens from any dangers, within or without, and will uphold her righteous laws until I no longer draw breath. May that event only happen in defense of the city."

At this, Meredith and Lise both stood, and bowed to each other. "I understand that the First Enchanter needs to give you an examination. I have business with the Grand Cleric; I will stop by on my way back from the Chantry and you can return with me to the Gallows, Orsino. We still need more information about those missing apostates. I hear disturbing rumours of blood magic about at least two of them; I expect to find it true about all three."

When she left, Lise turned to Orsino. "Apostates?"

He'd put an arm around her waist, drawing her close, and rested his forehead against hers as he explained. "Three mages escaped while I was here – two had taken their harrowings in Kirkwall and one was from Ferelden - she fled the country during the blight. Meredith is sure they're still in the city, and is most likely trying to gather information so that she can ask you to go after them."

She frowned, then looked up at him, running her finger along the patterns in his robes. "Are they a danger?"

Orsino sighed. "I don't know. If they _have_ fallen to blood magic, then they are – but I don't know if they have. Huon, perhaps. He's always been odd – a loner – although I'm not sure I blame him since he was devastated when they tore him away from his wife and forced him into the circle." He gave her a soft, sad look, and she touched his cheek. "Though it's no excuse for blood magic. Evelina, I have a hard time believing might be involved in it. From all I've heard, she spent all of her free time seeing to a group of orphaned children she brought with her from Ferelden. And Emile de Launcet? Doubtful. Between you and me, my dear, he's more of an idiot than blood magic allows for."

Lise gave a wry, sad smile. "Well, if Meredith asks me to track them, you know I will have to. But I will also do what I can to see that if they're not blood mages, they either evade me or are brought back without reprimand."

He kissed her gently, and then more eagerly. After a few minutes, he pulled away, resting his forehead against hers again. "Thank you, love. Meredith may not know exactly what she's done in making you Champion, but I think it's a very good thing for the city. And if she doesn't understand what you swore, _I_ do."

She smiled, dimpling slightly. "I know. The biggest dangers to Kirkwall may not come from the sources she expects. Now..." she led him back to the divan, where they could sit together, his arms around her, her head on his shoulder - "do you really need to give me an examination, or can we just sit here and enjoy the little time we have until she returns? As long as we're in here we will at least hear her knock."

Orsino kissed her forehead. "No need. I can already tell you're feeling better, and your colour and pulse are good. And right now, I just want to hold you, and talk to you – last night was much more lonely than I expected."

She nodded. "You'll need to stay at the Gallows again this evening, I assume?"

He grimaced. "Most likely. And I'd rather not push it, now. But I _will _return tomorrow, and as I won't have Meredith, I'll be free to stay as long as I wish. As long as I'm here if she needs to send for me, she never seems to mind much."

As the Knight-Commander's strident knock echoed through the manor, she gave him a last, lingering kiss. "Until tomorrow, then, love."

* * *

><p><strong>seth'lin<strong> (_seth-LEEN_): thin blood (Merrill uses it to mean thin-skinned – too easily angered or upset).

**arulin'holm **(_ah-roo-lin-HOLM_): ancient woodworking tool.

**Eluvian** (ehl-LOO-vee-ehn): mirror from ancient times.

_As always, the characters belong to Bioware, I just play with them._


	22. Concerning Family

_A touch of bittersweet, a touch of banter. I enjoy it all. Trying to get back into the quests, so that the sweet is interspersed with the silly/serious._

* * *

><p><em>Ch. 22, in which the heroine and Varric deal with family.<em>

"_Dearest Bethy,_

_I received your letter yesterday; thank you. It's been a very long week and it was so good to hear from you. You seem happy, and I'm glad. You'll have to tell me more about this Nathaniel you keep mentioning. You say his last name is Howe? Wasn't the Arl of Amaranthine a Howe? Is he related? I heard that something happened to the family during the blight, but I never kept up with Ferelden news - you know how busy we were with Kirkwall. You'll have to introduce him to me some day._

_I've been seeing someone too, though I can't tell you much about him – for many of the same reasons that we had to protect you in Lothering – although he's not actually on the run. It's hard, but I wouldn't give it up for anything. I've also become an expert at the different types of clasps on mage robes. And… I want you to meet him some day, whenever I get to meet Nathaniel. Bah. I wish you were here so we could have a good gossip session in front of the fire, with chestnuts and cider, like we used to. _

_Everything else is pretty much normal, or as normal as it gets around here. A bit sadder on most accounts – every time I turn around something's going wrong in the city. But we make do. _

_We took Merrill up to Sundermount Caverns yesterday. After mother's death, she said she did a lot of soul-searching and decided that after one last try at fixing the _eluvian_, she'd give up blood magic. I just wish now that I'd refused her. We went, but once we were in the cave, we found the statue that the demon had been bound to, and it was empty - Keeper Marethari had let the demon possess her. She said that it was going to use the _eluvian _to escape and that Merrill would have been its first target, and we had to kill her - the Keeper, I mean. It was horrible, and it almost destroyed Merrill. Her clan almost killed her, too. I was able to talk them down, but she's a wreck; I just spent the morning at her house. She wanted to smash the mirror, but I convinced her to let Orsino – he's the First Enchanter - take it for study. Now that the demon is gone, it should be safe._

_Otherwise, everything else is same as ever – no, I lie. Sebastian finally made a decision. He's been spending a lot of time playing politics and with the upheaval over the Viscount's seat, many nobles see the good in having a settled Prince on Starkhaven's throne – especially if they've gotten into his good graces. He's got enough backing that he'll be leaving next week, and we're hoping that he'll be able to reclaim his lands without bloodshed. From what I hear, things have been slowly growing worse over there since Johane Harriman died. Apparently, Goran Vael is _not _a suitable ruler. And when Sebastian returns, we will celebrate his wedding to Lady Flora Harriman. I'm so happy for them both – they're perfect for each other._

_I will close now. Everyone sends their regards, and Varric sends extra _special _regards, as well. He said that you're not allowed to marry a Ferelden unless he gives his approval._

_I love you, dearest._

_Yours,_

_Lisbet"_

Smiling, Lise sat back in her chair. She missed Bethany, but her last letter had seemed so much more cheerful, so much more lighthearted than before that she was sure her sister had finally found her place. The life of a Grey Warden wasn't easy – it never would be – but especially now that she seemed to have found a special friend it sounded as if she'd found a way to accept the dangers and be _happy_. Lise missed her – with their mother gone, more than ever – but she'd endure.

* * *

><p>After sealing and addressing it, she put on a light shawl – true to their discussion they'd waited until the summer wound down before heading to Sundermount and it was now early autumn – and wandered off to the courier's shop. She left Bethany's letter with them and then, after standing in the breeze on one of the bay overlooks above Lowtown, she decided to go visit the Gallows. She and Orsino preferred to spend their time together at her estate these days – it was far better for privacy, for example – but she put in an appearance for the Knight-Commander's sake from time to time. It allowed her to say hello to Cullen and the few mages and templars she'd gotten to know, and she wasn't sure but she had a sneaking suspicion that she wouldn't see Orsino today unless <em>she<em> went to _him_. As punctual and devoted as he was, he was still a scholar, and he'd just gotten his hands on a nearly-restored _eluvian_. There was a good chance he might not even remember to eat once he got into his experiments and research.

Walking through the Gallows, she noticed – not for the first time – that there were fewer mages and more tranquil around. It made her frown, but she wasn't sure what could be done about it. To listen to Anders, all-out revolution was the only way; she still had hopes that somehow, someone could find a better solution. Orsino agreed with her; something had to change, but revolution had the unpleasant side effects of killing a great many people it was meant to save. Neither of them wanted that.

Hawke got to his office – it was shut, as she expected, as it always was when he was conducting experiments – and tapped quietly, but did not expect him to even hear her to answer. She opened the door just widely enough to allow her to step in, then closed it behind her.

Orsino was sitting at his desk, his face white; there was a glass of wine in his hand and his head was resting against the back of the chair, eyes closed. The _eluvian_ was still in the centre of his study, but it was shattered, and glass lay on the carpet in front of it in long, glittering shards.

"_Orsino_?" Alarmed, she walked quickly towards the desk, carefully avoiding the glass. His eyes shot open, and he gave her such a look of relief that her heart – which had apparently stopped working momentarily – began to beat painfully. He got up and met her next to the desk, wrapping her in a trembling embrace.

"I'm so glad to see you, _emma vhenan_."

"What happened?" She led him over to the window seat – he hadn't yet covered it up for the winter – and sat next to him, holding his hands.

He sighed, and winced. "Nothing I shouldn't have expected, and nothing I haven't handled before. The mirror may no longer have been a gateway for that _particular_ demon, but it's been tainted beyond proper use, and there were a good many _other_ demons just waiting for me." Lise gave a worried gasp but he shook his head. "I'm used to it, my dear. The more power you have, the more often you have to deal with them, whether while asleep or during such experiments." He gave her a wry smile. "I've just never had one offer me anything that tempted me so much before."

Hawke blinked. "Oh?"

"Don't mistake me. The idea of power – or better yet, _freedom_ – has often been appealing. Sometimes very much so, depending on how much I've had to deal with Meredith that day." He shook his head, looking a bit embarrassed. "I've just never actually been tempted by a _desire_ demon. They've tried, but it just comes back to power or freedom, and I've been down those roads before."

"No offers of seduction or harems of beautiful women?"

Orsino chuckled at the tiniest hint of jealousy in her voice. "No. Most of us realize that desire isn't worth the price, and love is almost impossible. We have our occasional trysts, but even those tend to become less frequent and less attractive when there are templars waiting to trap you for any false move you make. I'm sure that mages are frequently _swayed_ by the offers of such, but… it was never an issue for me. I suppose that's one reason I made such a successful First Enchanter."

"But now?"

He pressed his lips together, looking away from her for a moment. Had she not come along when she had, he probably would have locked it away and not mentioned it, but she'd caught him so soon afterwards that he'd spoken without thinking. He'd have to tell her, as little as he wanted to. She frowned and put her hand on his chin, gently turning his face back towards her. "_What was it?_"

Shaking his head at the alarm in her voice, he took her hand, kissing the palm. "It wasn't anything to be jealous or worried about, Lise. One moment the demon was taunting me, the next moment I was seated in front of the fire in your study, reading. You sat in the chair across from me, as you often do, sewing; the difference was that I knew that I lived there, and a little boy sat on the rug between us, playing with a toy horse." She bit her lip. "Even that was comfortable, and not too terrible. It was when he turned to me, holding out the horse, and said 'Papa, papa, look!' and I could see that he had your hair colour and eyes – that's what nearly destroyed me." He gave another wry smile and nodded towards the shattered mirror. "I'm afraid I was a bit overeager in my refusal."

As he spoke, Lise had gotten to her feet; she now stood before him, stroking his hair with one hand, her other arm across his shoulders. He gave her a small, sad smile and then rested his forehead against her stomach. After a while, she spoke. "We could, you know."

Orsino looked up at her, quickly shaking his head. "No. I won't have you go through that alone, or largely alone – and if we _are_ separated some day, I don't want it to grow up without a father. And… losing you would already destroy me. I don't know if I could bear it if we had a child." She nodded quietly, still stroking his hair.

After a while, she cleared her throat. "I was tempted once, you know."

He raised an eyebrow. "The fade, when you went in after Feynriel?" She nodded. "You wouldn't tell me what it was."

"It was you." She blushed as he looked startled, pleased, and a bit wary. "I guess she saw what was in my heart – my mind – and the next thing I knew I was lying on a bed with you kissing my neck." She cleared her throat again. "I said no, of course. There's no way I could ever let a demon control you – and I only wanted you on your own terms."

He sat back, then wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her into his lap as he nuzzled her hair. "I loved you before then, you know. Don't ever worry that I'm here because of something like that." She nodded, resting against his shoulder. After a while, she spoke again.

"I'm glad the mirror's broken. I won't tell Merrill why, but I will tell her it's gone."

He nodded, kissed her arm, and then stood. "I need to tell Meredith that it was unsalvageable and that the templars are going to need to destroy it." Looking down, he nudged one of the slivers with his boot. "Notice how none of the shards are in pieces smaller than a sovereign? It's still highly magical, and I'll bet it's just waiting to be put back together again. We'll have to find some way to disable it permanently." He sighed.

Lise frowned. "I was going to tell you to come home with me, to cheer you up a bit. I wasn't expecting you tonight, so Varric, Izzy, and Fen are coming to play Diamondback – but that's alright; you do play, don't you?"

He nodded. "Don't worry. Once I mention the word 'demon', Meredith won't let me have anything else to do with it. I'll meet you at home in a few hours at the latest? Send Wolf out if you haven't seen me by dinner."

She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and left. She would have liked to have waited for him, but they both felt it was better not to be seen together in public _too_ often; however much they hid it they knew that very observant people could probably sense something and they didn't want any more rumours than were already going to propagate with her being the Champion and him being the First Enchanter. But as Varric said, "some rumours are good; they show that the people are behaving like sheep. It's when there's nothing at all that you have to suspect that there's something _interesting_." Hell, Hawke heard the occasional rumour about Orsino and _Meredith_ and it was only by very strong willpower that she managed to get through them with a straight face. Usually such conversations ended with her and Varric in a corner somewhere, howling with laughter.

* * *

><p>Isabela and Fenris were waiting for her; Orsino came soon after and the four of them were already eating dinner when Varric finally arrived, at least two hours late. He threw himself into the chair at the end of the table, groaning. "It's been a long day; you couldn't have waited for the dwarf before stuffing yourselves?"<p>

"Cold ham is acceptable, but cold mutton is a sin, Varric. Would_ you_ want to explain to Orana why we let her food sit out?" Orsino grinned as he passed the bread, and Varric rolled his eyes.

"Ever since you and Beautiful hooked up, you've been impossible, Robes." The mage just laughed.

Isabela snorted. "He was always impossible, if you ask me. But it'd take someone impossible to want to sleep with Hawke."

Fenris rolled his eyes. "Yes, because _you_ never tried."

She snorted. "I try to sleep with _everyone_, Fenris. _Usually_, it works!"

As Orsino and Lise both looked at each other, confused, Varric leaned forward. "Don't mind Rivaini. She stopped by to see that ex-Antivan Crow we helped last week – apparently he's leaving tomorrow."

"And he _still_ won't sleep with me! Bloody Antivan!" As everyone at the table tried to hide their laughter, she took a long swig of brandy. "I knew that Hero of Ferelden bullshit would end up badly. Apparently Zev's wrapped around her little finger. Don't get me wrong – I tried to sleep with _her_ too when I met her in Denerim – but I never figured he'd _stay_ with her." She glared around the table. "Bloody elves, you're all impossible."

Lise patted her on the arm. "You know you'll win everything they have tonight, so don't take it too hard, Izzy. There are more fish in the sea."

"Yes, but _this_ one actually knew how to use his tongue for something _other_ than talking!" They dissolved into laughter and it wasn't until dessert that Varric sat his mug down with a start.

"Oh, that's right! Beautiful – I need your help, and it's Bartrand's fault again."

She raised an eyebrow. "Is he out of the sanitarium?"

"No, no, at least I hope not. He's never going to be anything other than crazy, Hawke, but I'm glad we saved his miserable skin. No, remember how I was trying to sell his house?"

"Mmm, and I remember that the whole 'murder's abode' shtick wasn't doing so well for you."

"Get this, I found some crazy Antivan noble-" Isabela growled at the word 'Antivan' "-who was willing to buy it sight unseen. And I might have forgotten to mention Bartrand's escapades, but they're over so what does it matter? A few coats of paint and the place was as good as new."

Lise shook her head, laughing. "So what's the problem, then?"

"Apparently he says that 'weird things' are happening – he was _very_ descriptive – and he thinks it's haunted."

She raised an eyebrow. "Well, it wouldn't surprise me, considering. I suppose you want to check it out?"

"Considering that my only other alternative is to give him back his cash and try to sell the damn thing again, would getting down on my knees to beg help at all?"

Snorting, she shook her head. "Save your dignity, Varric. We'll probably need it tonight when Izzy's done with us."

They played for a few hours – Isabela was in a _much_ better mood, having won enough from Lise and Fenris to make _them_ grumble - but Varric saw the looks that Lise and Orsino were giving each other, and he called the game to an early close.

"Anyhow, I want to take care of that little 'haunted' problem as soon as we can, so I guess we'll all want an early night, eh?" He winked at Lise, who blushed and rolled her eyes, and then shooed everyone else out. "See you in the morning, Beautiful. Night, Robes."

* * *

><p>Varric grumbled when she finally had him awake, out of bed, and ready to go the next morning. "<em>Ancestors<em>, Hawke. I was kidding about the 'bright and early' thing, you know? If you're up this early, you weren't busy enough last night."

"Come _on_, Varric. Up-and-at-'em, rise-and-shine, early birds and worms and all that."

He groaned. "I'd settle for the 'middle-of-the-day-dwarf gets the ale.' Or the bird. Whichever lets me sleep later."

Eventually, though, he was ready to go and he, Lise, and Fenris headed for Bartrand's old estate, a little north of the merchant's district in Hightown. Varric unlocked the door - "owner's staying uptown until we get this sorted-" but let Hawke and Fenris go in first. Halfway through the foyer, he stopped. "What's that sound? I hear talking."

The other two stopped, blinking. After a moment, Lise shrugged. "It's cold, dusty, and silent. I don't hear anything."

As she spoke he hissed, "There it is again!" and she shook her head, looking at Fenris, who shrugged. They went further into the estate and he didn't say anything else, but she kept an eye on him. She noticed, worriedly, that he was looking a little more anxious, and a little less Varric-like, the closer they got to the upstairs rooms.

Just then, as they turned the corner before the stairs, a pot came sailing out of nowhere and clipped Lise on the side of the head before shattering against the railing. It would have hit her square in the forehead if Fenris hadn't pulled her out of the way with a sharp curse in Arcanum. Before they could quite see what had happened, all of the books went flying off the shelves around the room in a wave, and there was a loud, high-pitched keening from the balcony above.

Varric shuddered, and looked at Hawke. "Did I imagine _that_, too?"

She shook her head, still rubbing her temple. "Not unless we're all going crazy. Of course, since I just got hit over the head, I mightn't be the best person to ask."

"I heard it, too." Fenris still had his sword out and was watching the stairway with keen eyes.

Lise sighed. "Alright, I'll go first. When I give the all-clear, you two follow." She began to creep up the stairs, back against the railing, but when she got to the first turn and could see the balcony, she stood up, looking startled. "_Get up here!_"

They were up in a flash, and both of them joined her with open mouths. "I'll be a nug's-" Varric said. "How do you get a ghost _golem_?"

She shrugged, already taking sight on her bow. "I don't know, but I think I know how to scare them _off_." She fired, and the arrow hit with a surprisingly loud "thunk". "All right, then." Fenris flew at it as she and Varric filled it with arrows and bolts, but once it was finally "dead" it sank down with a groan and dissipated into mist. She blinked. "I have _no_ idea, but Varric – do you think maybe Bartrand had a second cursed relic?"

He shrugged, and she could see that he was sweating a bit – which was odd, since it was still quite cold inside. "You know Bartrand. Crazy fool could've gotten a hold of anything."

In the room furthest down the landing – having dodged another pot and three books – they found a slew of crates and boxes, sealed. "I'll be. They left all of Bartrand's stuff here." Varric had a light in his eyes that Lise wasn't too eager to interpret.

"Well, let's see what we find-" but he'd already gone straight to a trunk, popped open the lock without even trying, and started rummaging in it. She stood up, looking at Fenris with alarm. Keeping her voice carefully neutral, she asked, "Find anything?"

He held up a hand's-width blood-red shard that looked sickeningly familiar. "I should have _known_ that my worthless brother wouldn't have sold it without keeping a piece! Finally!" He stood up, holding it to the light. He ran an avaricious finger up the side. "Come to papa, you pretty piece of-"

"_Varric_!" He looked at her, blinking. "You _really_ don't want to mess with that."

"Yes, Hawke, I _really_ do."

She tried a different tack. "You remember what it did to Bartrand, don't you?"

He glared at her. "So? My brother's a loon. I can handle this."

"No, Varric, you can't." She held out her hand, and she could see Varric and whatever it was that was trying to control Varric warring behind his eyes. Finally, he threw his hands into the air, slapped the shard into her hand, and began to stomp off. "Fine. You and that mage of yours can poke at it for all I care. I'm going home."

She began to walk after him, but Fenris put a warning hand on her arm. "I think he'll be fine if he doesn't have _that_. But that was actually a good idea – see what Orsino thinks about it."

Lise sighed, pocketing it carefully. "I'd rather throw it off a high cliff above some very deep water, but you're probably right." She looked around noticing that the minute Varric touched the shard, everything supernatural stopped. "Well, let's get out of here. At least he won't have to worry about reselling the place."

* * *

><p><strong>eluvian: <strong>ancient mirror.

**emma vhenan: **my heart.

_As always, the characters are Bioware's. I just use them_.


	23. An Enchanting Evening

_I'm back! I noticed that today just happens to be the random day that I picked for Orsino's birthday, so I figured this was a fitting chapter. Enjoy!_

* * *

><p><em>Ch. 23, concerning lyrium, secrets, and wine.<em>

"Where did you get this?" Orsino looked up from the lyrium shard with a sharp glance. Hawke shrugged.

"We found it in Bartrand's old house, and it tried to eat Varric. We think it's a part of the statue he got out of the deep roads – you know, the one over which he betrayed us. Why?"

He looked at it again for another minute or two, turning it back and forth in the sunlight, where it seemed more to glow rather than sparkle. "It's a suspicion, but it's not a good one." Going to his desk, he added a few lines to the document he'd been writing when she came in. "Would you take this to Meredith? It's a list she asked me for earlier. If I'm right, you should notice what it is that I suspect."

Blinking at him, Lise took the paper. "You're being rather cryptic, but all right. It's not like I don't give you hell often enough. I'll be back, then?"

"Mm. You can just tell her that I'm still working on the paperwork she asked me for. We had another squabble this morning, so it'll more than likely make her happy that you're the one delivering it, not I."

Frowning, she kissed his cheek. "You two have been quarrelling an awful lot lately."

Orsino nodded, frowning as well. "Don't remind me." He sighed. "Hurry back; I'm curious to see if your impression is the same as mine."

Nodding, Lise left his study. Down the hallway, she tapped on Meredith's door. The strident voice sounded harried. "Yes?"

She opened the door. "Knight-Commander?"

"Ah, Champion! I am glad to see you. If Orsino ever gets me the information I requested from him, I have a task for you, if you would assist me."

"Oh! He did ask me to give you this when I looked in on him, earlier."

Meredith snorted lightly. "Serah Hawke, I know that you and he are good friends, you don't need to hide it." Hawke flushed a bit. "But I think it does him good. After all, you still serve Kirkwall and your influence in bringing in apostates and slaying blood mages can only help keep his mind on the correct paths. In fact-" she cut herself off, thoughtfully looking back over the list that Orsino had passed along.

Lise took this opportunity to examine Meredith. She certainly looked stressed; there were new worry lines on her forehead and her expression looked like it was one of perpetual annoyance. Her shoulders were tense, most likely from constantly carrying- Lise blinked. _That's a new sword_. Clearing her throat, she nodded towards it. "That is a very impressive blade, Knight-Commander."

Meredith looked up from the parchment with an oddly triumphant smile. "It is, is it not?" She picked it up from where it leaned against her desk and as she unsheathed it, Hawke's stomach immediately turned. It was a greatsword no larger than the ones Fenris favoured, but set in the lower quarter of the blade and worked into the hilt and pommel was an expanse of blood-red stone.

"Very remarkable, indeed." Lise did her best to keep the revulsion out of her voice.

"I just received it back from the blacksmith," the Knight-Commander said, running a hand up the centre of the blade. "It took a long time to find someone with the skill to work it, but it holds a fine edge. It's made of lyrium, you know."

"I have seen such stone in the deep roads, though not the equal of yours," was Lise's politic reply.

Meredith gave an odd smirk. "I dare say you have. It's a fitting weapon for one such as I, don't you think?" Hawke merely nodded, and the templar continued. "I do, however, have a task for you, Champion. This list that Orsino gave me is new information we've gathered about a missing apostate; her name is Evelina. She fled the tower while you were still recovering from the qunari siege. With this, you will hopefully be able to track her and return her to the circle; if she will not come – or if she is a blood mage, as I suspect – then you know what is required."

Nodding, Lise winced inwardly; she'd gotten used to the suffocating air Meredith projected, but it seemed to be getting stronger. "Of course, messere. I will see to it as soon as I can."

"As always, you serve Kirkwall. Good day, Serah Hawke." Meredith nodded and Lise took it as a dismissal, bowing as she closed the door.

* * *

><p>Back in Orsino's study she shook her head in response to his questioning raised eyebrow. "You weren't wrong, though I wish you were. She must be the one who bought the statue from Bartrand."<p>

He nodded. "And you say that it made him insane?"

"Crazy as a loon. The shard tried to affect Varric, but only while he was holding it. This morning he stopped by to apologize for being an ass. Personally, I felt nothing when I touched it. It made Fenris feel ill, but with his tattoos, I'm really not surprised."

"Then let us hope that it only influences dwarves. There's certainly something malevolent about this shard – and her sword – but perhaps it's the dwarven resilience against magic that makes them susceptible to _this_."

She nodded, biting her lip in concentration. After a moment, she looked up. "When I brought it in, Sandal immediately came to me, asking, 'Enchantment?' I couldn't understand why, but then I held the shard up and when I asked him if it was what he meant, he nodded eagerly – almost like a puppy. I think he wants to see what he can do with it. Do you think you'd want to let him try?"

Orsino walked to the window and looked out for a while, resting his foot upon the window seat. "I don't know. I'm curious, and I want to measure its effects, but... will Sandal be safe?"

"I don't know, either – although he's tougher than he seems. We can ask Bodahn, once he knows all the details. I don't want to put Sandal in danger, but he was so _very_ interested, and, well... if Meredith has the rest of the statue..." she shrugged.

"You're right, of course." He sighed. "I do still need to finish this for her before I leave, however. I assume she asked you to track down Evelina, love?"

Lise nodded. "She did, though I don't intend to go out looking until tomorrow. If what you say is true, then she isn't really a danger, though I do need to get to her before Meredith's people do. Do you want to give this to Sandal today?"

"The sooner the better, I think. I'll be over in an hour or two after this is done."

She smiled. "All right. You can stay all evening, I hope?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Of course. I thought it was a given."

Hawke just gave a cryptic smile. "I'll see you soon, then."

* * *

><p>"Enchantment!" Sandal's cry of delight when Lise handed him – carefully – the shard made her give Orsino a worried glance. He nodded, then turned to the young dwarf.<p>

"Why is this piece so special?"

Sandal shrugged. "Pretty. It sings nice. I like the song, but it's too noisy."

"That's what Bartrand said, too – that it sings. I don't hear anything."Hawke frowned.

"I don't hear anything either, messeres," Bodahn said. He'd asked to be present while Sandal worked on the lyrium, and they thought it best if he was. Hawke and Orsino shrugged at one another.

"Do you mind if we watch you work, Sandal?" Lise leaned over the table in the study where he was sitting, staring intently at the piece. His only response was a "Shhhh."

"I come in from time to time and watch him. He usually doesn't mind."

They all sat around the table. Orsino had his pen and foolscap for notes and everyone else just watched. After a few minutes of pondering over the shard, Sandal picked it up, then took a tiny knife and began to carve at one of the sides. The blade seemed to cut through the lyrium as if it were carving through butter, not stone, and the shavings never fell, they just – dissolved? Lise blinked, looking puzzled. Orsino saw her look, then wrote something on a scrap of paper and tapped her shoulder.

"_I've watched the tranquil do this,_" he wrote. "_The knife blade is specially-tempered cold iron, which is unaffected by the magic of the lyrium. The reflected energy causes the pieces to be absorbed back into the main fragment as power, and that power fuels the enchanting. No one really understands why it works, as we still don't understand tranquil and their severed connections to the fade._"

She nodded, giving him a smile, and looked back at Sandal. He'd laid the knife down – the shard was less fragmented now and looked more rounded, almost as if he'd followed invisible veins and seams to bring out natural contours. He held it in both hands and was concentrating on it; all of the sudden there was a blinding explosion of light along with a single high-pitched shriek. When the dazzle finally cleared from everyone's eyes they found that they'd all jumped to their feet; they looked towards Sandal, who held the shard out to Lise with a smile. "Enchanted!"

Taking it gingerly, she noticed that it felt slightly warm to the touch, and the glow seemed deeper, but less sickening. It no longer made her head hurt to concentrate on it. She ran her thumb along one of the contours, then passed it along to Orsino. Looking back down at Sandal, she smiled. "Thank you, Sandal. It's lovely."

He grinned, and wandered out of the study, and they heard him talking to Rufus in the kitchen. "He seems unaffected," Orsino noted with a nod. "And this is strange. I no longer sense any of the malevolence it originally exuded. It seems to be an expertly-worked magic talisman, nothing more."

Lise turned to Sandal's father. "Thank you, Bodahn. I think Sandal did a very good thing with this." He bowed, and when he was gone, she turned back to Orsino.

"I know you want to examine it, but... please don't. I don't know how much I trust it."

He gave her a look that was half-disappointment, half-alarm. "But if I don't study it, then why did we even let Sandal look at it? What happens if we need to know more about it because of Meredith's sword?"

She sighed. "Leave it to you to bring that up. I'd say that potentially getting rid of the curse is enough reason to give it to Sandal, but you're right." She looked around the study. "Could you examine it here? I would like someone nearby who knows what it is – even if I can't necessarily interact with it – and I don't want Meredith to know about it."

He pursed his lips in thought, and counted something off on his fingers. Eventually, he spoke. "I could, I think. You've actually got some books here I might want to consult, and all I'd need to do is bring a few things from my study. Is there a safe place we can keep it until tomorrow or the next day?"

Hawke nodded. "Not tomorrow, if that's all right – I want to look for Evelina. But until you do look at it, I think I have a place." She led him up to her room, and pulled a small trunk out of the corner from behind a table. "It's all I have left from Lothering, so I don't open it often, and it'll be hidden back here."

Orsino nodded. "May I see it for a moment?" She put the talisman in his palm and he concentrated over it, murmuring. A glowing blue sphere sprang up around it and then sunk into the shard, disappearing. "That should protect it – and you – for a while. As long as no one attempts to use it the shielding spell should stay until I remove it. Now-" He turned to Lise, but as he did, the front door opened.

"Hawke?"

"Oh, it's Varric!" She squeezed his hand quickly and ran downstairs to meet the dwarf; Orsino sighed. He'd hoped for an evening alone with Lise, but it seemed like more often these days, her friends were around. Following her slowly, he noticed that they were whispering together, but Lise cleared her throat and turned around quickly as he approached.

Varric nodded to him. "Robes." He then looked at Lise, however, with a frown. "Well, Fenris and Orana shouldn't be far behind..."

She shrugged. "We'll do what we can until Orana's ready, then we'll figure out something."

Orsino frowned, looking from Lise to Varric and then back again. "Is something wrong?"

She shook her head, waving her hands quickly. "Oh, no. Of course not, dear." She took his hand. "Let's go into the study and play some Atashi, shall we? I think Orana is going to spend the afternoon with Bodahn going through recipes."

There was something about her voice that made Orsino pause and look at her, but she merely smiled. He frowned to himself – there _was_ something wrong, but if she wasn't going to tell him, he couldn't force her. Instead, he bowed slightly. "If you wish, my dear." His voice was a little less than happy, and he missed the flicker of hurt in her eyes while he was looking down.

They played a hand, but it was clear to him that her mind was not on it. When Fenris and Orana arrived she jumped up. "I'll go see if Orana needs a hand."

Orsino, who had just been getting ready to speak to her frowned, but she was already gone. He looked at Varric. "What's going on?"

He shrugged. "If Beautiful hasn't told you anything, it's not my place." As Orsino frowned again and reached up to rub his eyes, he shook his head. "I don't think you should keep thinking that, though. You're just doing both yourself and her a disfavour."

"What should I do, then? Something's going on and she won't talk to me."

"Just give her some time. Has she ever let you down before?"

The mage sighed. "No. I'll try, I suppose. It's the least I can do."

Fenris came in then and the three men played a few hands of Atashi while Lise and Orana bustled about between the kitchen and the dining room. Occasionally Orsino heard them giggling and he frowned to himself; the other two noticed his distraction, but neither said anything. After a while, there was another knock at the front door and Merrill came in, after which Lise stuck her head in at the open study door. "Fenris, we really need your help. Varric, could you-?"

He nodded, standing. "Course, Beautiful. But you really should hurry up."

She laughed. "I'm trying!"

Varric turned to Orsino. "Let's go for a walk. You're looking stressed and I think some fresh air would do you good."

Orsino frowned, and was about to refuse, but something about the look on the dwarf's face made him shrug. "Fine. I'm obviously not wanted or needed here, so I might as well."

He was on his way through the study door when Hawke, who'd drawn to one side, took his wrist. She pulled him close and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "_I'm sorry, I promise we'll talk when you get back_," she whispered. He tried to give her a small smile, and nodded, but said nothing.

* * *

><p>Outside, Varric stretched. The sun was slowly sinking over the bay, and the orange, slanting rays were casting long shadows over everything in Hightown. "Well, we've got a bit of time to kill, so let's walk down to the market. Stores should still be open, and I'll bet a nice bottle of wine would help Beautiful out. She says you know your vintages; want to give me a hand?"<p>

Orsino sighed. "All right, Varric. But are you _sure_ you don't know what's going on?"

Varric laughed. "I never said that. There's just no way I'm going to tell you before Hawke does – she's too _terrifying_. You haven't seen her angry face, have you?"

The mage laughed at that. "No, I can't say that I have, and I suppose that's something to be thankful for, eh?"

"You have no _idea_. But seriously, Robes. If she hasn't told you there's anything wrong, I wouldn't worry too much. Just give it a bit of time and I think everything will turn out to be all right."

"I hope so, and you're probably right. I just can't help worrying." Orsino shrugged.

"Of course you can't. You're courting the most eligible woman in Kirkwall. There are men – _nobles_ – who would kill you if they knew."

Orsino grimaced. "Thanks for _that_ reassurance, Varric."

The dwarf chuckled. "My pleasure. But you're good for her, Robes. She doesn't seem so down and she's certainly not so lonely any more. She even seems to be able to talk about Carver and Leandra now without sounding like her world is ending."

"Thank you, Varric. I try – I want to give her everything – but knowing that we're stuck the way we are now... it's frustrating." He looked up as they reached the wine shop. "Am I buying for anything special?" When Varric shook his head, he began to look through the reds.

He found a bottle of _La Coeur de Claire de Lune_ and was about to pay when a small crate of tall, thin bottles caught his eye. He pulled one out – the wine inside was the colour of honey – and the wine merchant smiled. "Ah, now that's something special we just received from Jader. They call it _eiswein_ – it's _very_ sweet."

Thinking back to the first time he and Lise had met, he remembered her refusal of sugar for her tea - "_I have such a sweet tooth_" - and smiled. "I'll take two bottles."

* * *

><p>Orsino was feeling better when he stepped out of the wine shop to find Varric, who was browsing next door at the bowyer. "Looking for a friend for Bianca?"<p>

Varric just gave him a look. "You're not so funny, elf." They laughed, and walked back to the estate in the darkening twilight. When they got back, Varric knocked; there was a longer pause than usual, then Orana opened the door.

"You're back just in time for dinner," she said, smiling. Orsino noticed that she'd opened up quite a bit from the first time he met her – she no longer bowed and stuttered at everyone and she didn't feel the need to call each of them messere or serah – though she still called Hawke 'mistress'. That, he figured, would likely never change. He gave her the wine, asking her to put the two bottles of _eiswein_ in the study and then he and Varric went to join the others.

Strangely enough, however, the dining room door was closed and he could hear no noise from within. He looked back at Varric, who shrugged.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when he opened the door and Hawke, who was standing in front of the table, cried, "Surprise!" and clapped her hands as everyone else – Aveline and Isabela had arrived while the two were out – echoed her call. Looking around, he saw that the table was dressed nearly as fancily as it had been at Midwinter – there were candles and flowers and a line of excellent dishes that Orana and Bodahn had likely spent all afternoon preparing. As Lise held out a chair next to hers, he sat down, blinking.

"What's the occasion?"

She dimpled. "It's your birthday, isn't it?"

He blinked again, and looked up at her in surprise. "Now that you mention it, it is, but how-?" Varric whistled innocently as he sat down and everyone laughed.

* * *

><p>The meal was an enjoyable one – everyone had a good time, and afterwards Lise and Orana took turns playing, although they kept the music lively. There was a game of Wicked Grace – Orsino beat everyone and Isabela grumbled that it <em>had<em> to be beginner's luck – but afterwards the visitors made their excuses, said their farewells, and left. The door had barely closed behind Varric – the last to leave – when Orsino reached out, drawing Lise into his arms.

"I owe you an apology, love. I was an ass this afternoon; I should have trusted you more."

She rested her forehead against his, smiling. "Don't worry. I thought you might not even remember it, but you're the most important person to me, so I wanted to celebrate."

Orsino smiled, stroking her cheek. "I didn't remember. It's been so long since I kept it with anyone – longer ago than I want to remember, back when I was an apprentice in Starkhaven. There weren't many of us; we'd get together and have a small celebration since we could no longer be with our families. But I was transferred here shortly after my Harrowing, and you know how Kirkwall is. There are no celebrations of any kind, and eventually it became a little too painful to keep it by myself. Thank you, love." He kissed her gently.

She pulled away after a bit and led him to the study. "It's not much, but happy birthday, love," she said, handing him a bundle. Unwrapping it, he found an exquisite set of research tools – fine knives and forceps, magnifying glasses, and brushes.

"Not much? Where did you get this?" He looked extraordinarily pleased.

"Sol had them brought in from Tevinter. I know some of your things broke when you were testing the _eluvian_, so I asked him to find me some more."

"You're a dream, Lise." He kissed her hand, then spied the bottles sitting on her desk. "I have something for _you_, as well."

"It's your birthday – you're not supposed to give _me_ a gift!"

Orsino laughed. "Shush. It's not a gift because it's my birthday, it's a gift because I love you." He handed her one of the bottles, and at her inquiring look, said, "It's a wine from Jader, called _eiswein_." Taking a glass from the shelf behind her desk, he poured some – the scent itself was sweet, and the wine gleamed like pale amber in the firelight. Handing it to her, he said, "Try it."

She sniffed it appreciatively, then took a sip and gasped. "It's so _sweet_!" He smiled as she took a longer drink. "Where did you get it?"

"Varric suggested I buy you a bottle of wine to calm my temper earlier. There's a bottle of _Coeur_, too, but this caught my eye and I wanted to see how you liked it."

"I love it. It's so heady – certainly not an everyday wine. You should try it."

"I will." He caught her around the waist and drew her close, kissing her. He could taste it on her lips and tongue – sweet and fiery. Pulling back, he smiled down. "It _is_ good. Let's share this bottle tonight, then save the other for a special occasion?"

Lise wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning up for another kiss. "I think that's a very good idea, love."

* * *

><p><strong>Eluvian<strong> (ehl-LOO-vee-ehn): mirror from ancient times.

**La Coeur de Clair de Lune** - my French is ragged, but it's my attempt at "The Heart of Moonlight", Orsino and Hawke's favourite Orlesian wine.

**Eiswein_ –_** literally, "ice wine", made from small white grapes that are harvested after the first frost. Very sweet.

_As always, the characters belong to Bioware. I just use them._


	24. To the Rescue

_The start of another slightly-extended storyline. For everyone who's been reading faithfully and reviewing, thank you!_

* * *

><p><em>Ch. 24, in which our heroine flies to her sister's rescue, and the hero is left behind<em>.

When the rage demon that had once been Evelina collapsed in upon itself in a shower of ashes, Cricket – an eight-year-old orphan who'd been in her care – came out of the corner where he'd hidden himself and ran at Hawke, bawling as he wrapped himself around her legs. Gently she unfastened his arms and went down on one knee, hugging him; he buried his face in her shoulder and sobbed.

"Why- why did she try to hurt us? Why did she do that?"

Lise – herself trying not to cry – shook her head. "Shush, Cricket. That wasn't Evelina. That was a monster that was pretending to be Evelina." She looked up at Walter, an older boy who was standing nearby, also looking frightened. "Remember Evelina as you knew her – the kind woman who saved your lives and took care of you, not as what you saw today." They both nodded, numbly.

She stood and rummaged in her belt pouch; pulling out two five-sovereign pieces, she handed them to Walter. "Round up any other children that Evelina was taking care of and go to Lirene's Ferelden Imports in Lowtown – do you know where that is?" He nodded. "She takes in children that can pay a little for room and board – this should be enough to take care of the lot of you until you can find odd jobs. I can always use runners – look for the Hawke estate, any guard can direct you. If you find yourselves out of money, come see me. I don't want any of you sleeping down here or on the streets again."

He nodded again, looking at the golden coins with wide eyes. "Thank you, messere. Come on, Cricket. Let's go get some food for the little ones." The smaller boy gave Lise another hug and a sticky kiss on the cheek and ran off after him.

Lise watched them go with a pang; not only was she horrified by what had happened with Evelina , but she wished more and more that she could bring some of the children who ran errands into the estate, perhaps adopt them. But it wouldn't be fair to the rest if she singled one or two out, and with how often she was busy, she couldn't just make Bodahn take care of them all day. And if something happened to her… she shuddered. No, it was better this way, but it still made her sad.

Finally, she took a deep breath. "I should go report to Meredith."

* * *

><p>Her audience with the Knight-Commander was brief; she outlined how she'd found Evelina's hiding place in Darktown and how, when confronted, the woman had given herself over to her demons. She mentioned nothing about the children; she would tell Meredith what was necessary, but she would <em>not<em> allow the woman to round up innocents just so she could be sure they had no "blood taint". The templar expressed her appreciation for Hawke's efforts and was vocal in her castigation of the deceased woman and her use of blood magic.

It was all Lise could do not to turn away in disgust before Meredith had even finished; she'd heard from several sources about how Evelina had spent most of her efforts _before_ her escape trying to get her children the assistance they needed, but her pleas had continually fallen upon deaf ears. For all that the Knight-Commander went on about "protecting the people of Kirkwall," it was growing more and more obvious that her only _real_ concern were the "citizens of note". Finally Meredith finished and Lise bowed, then saw herself out; she went by Orsino's study to gripe but found that he was away helping with apprentice testing.

Sighing, she went back to the estate after leaving a short note to say she'd been by; it was still early afternoon and it was one of those perfect days in which early autumn was playing dress-up in late summer's attire. Donning an old tunic and pants, she went into the garden; the pumpkins and leeks she'd planted in early spring were growing nicely, the butterbeans were very close to being ripe, and the whole garden was a riot of late-summer and early-fall colours. It was a perfect time to gather the chrysanthemums and strawflowers that would dry so nicely in the anteroom and provide colour for the rest of the winter season.

Lise was on her knees amongst the herbs, ruthlessly trimming the rosemary – she had to every autumn or it'd take over the entire garden – when Bodahn came out of the side door, calling "Messere! Mistress Hawke!" She shook her head – she'd never been able to convince him that not _every_ visitor required him to make enough of a stir for the neighbors to overhear – and stood, brushing the dirt off her knees.

He panted up to her. "Messere, there's a lady inside who says it's very important that she speak with the Champion of Kirkwall, right away."

"You didn't get her name, did you?" When he shook his head, she sighed. "Well, I hope she'll understand if the Champion of Kirkwall doesn't look particularly Champion-esque at the moment. Is she in the study?

"Yes, messere. Would you like me to make tea?"

"Please. Also bring in some lemonade and gingerbread, just in case."

She dusted herself off as best she could, washing her hands in the tiny fountain by the door. Gathering her basket of herbs and flowers she stepped in, giving her eyes a minute to adjust in the quiet dimness before she went into the study. There was a tall, pretty, dark-haired woman sitting by the fire; she wore the fashions of a middling, well-to-do shopkeeper's wife, but there was an air about her that indicated that she'd once been upper-class. The lines on her forehead and few grey hairs suggested that she was older than Lise, though not by much; she was possibly closer to Orsino's age. She stood quickly when Lise entered. "Mistress Hawke? The Champion of Kirkwall?"

Lise nodded, stepping forward with an outstretched hand. "I am," she said.

The other woman took it, pressing it briefly. "Please, pardon my intrusion, milady, but you're the only person I can turn to."

Shaking her head, Hawke said, "Please. Call me Lise. And you are?"

"Oh, where are my manners? My name is Delilah Howe. I've come from Amaranthine in search of my brother."

Lise blinked. "A Howe, of Amaranthine? Would your brother's name happen to be Nathaniel?"

Delilah looked startled. "He is. Do you know anything about his whereabouts?"

"Unfortunately, I don't. I only know his name because my sister Bethany, who is in his chapter of the Wardens, mentioned him the last time she wrote."

The dark-haired woman smiled faintly. "Bethany _is_ your sister, then? I had wondered – she speaks of you sometimes, but never by full name – just 'my sister'. If that is the case, then this is of as much import to you as it is to me and my family."

A cold fear gripped Lise's stomach. "What happened?"

"Over a month ago a group of Amaranthine Wardens set out to find the thaig that you and your sister visited; Nathaniel led the group as a senior Warden and Bethany was one of the company. I'm afraid that something's gone terribly wrong."

"They're Grey Wardens – aren't they _supposed_ to spend time in the deep roads?"

Delilah shook her head. "Not this long at a time. I waited until it had been a few weeks since I'd heard from Nathaniel – this was a week ago. It was then that I set out to see what I could find, knowing this was the closest city to their entrance – I heard the rumours about all that you've done, and that you'd been into the deep roads as well; now that I know your connexion with Bethany I can only beg you to find her and my brother."

Lise nodded. "Of course I will. I would have even if Bethy wasn't involved – but might I ask, first, how my sister was when you two last spoke?"

Delilah nodded in return. "She was doing well. I live in Amaranthine and my husband trades with the Wardens frequently, so I get to see my brother often. He's brought Bethany with him from time to time, and they seem to be very happy together."

Closing her eyes, Hawke smiled faintly. "I was hoping that was their relationship. She wasn't clear about it when she wrote, but I could tell that she cared a great deal for him. If you know her, you know what she is – a mage?" Delilah nodded, and Lise continued. "Then you can guess why she's never really had a normal life. I sometimes think that joining the Wardens was the best thing that happened to her." She stood. "But I can't waste any time. How long will you be in Kirkwall, Delilah?"

She looked uncertain. "I worry about my husband and son, but they're safe in Amaranthine. I worry about my brother more. If you are going to look for him, perhaps I will stay a bit."

Lise nodded. "It will take us half a week, perhaps, to get there – since we returned, Varric has mapped better, faster routes to help with his trade negotiations. As I don't know what we'll find, I'll say that it could be as short as a week, as long as three weeks before we return. If you wish to stay, you're welcome here – I live alone except for my servants."

Delilah gave her a grateful look. "If it's not an imposition, Lise, then I would greatly appreciate it. My things are at the Fair Farthing; I booked a room for the night, but was not sure how long I would be staying. I can come around again in the morning?"

"That sounds reasonable. It will take me the rest of this afternoon and evening to send word to my companions and to arrange for emergency supplies; my hope is that we can leave tomorrow by noon."

Looking much relieved, Delilah stood and bowed. "Lise – Mistress Hawke – let me thank you again. You've given me hope, whereas even this morning I had none. I will return again in the morning to see you off."

* * *

><p>As soon as Delilah left, Lise flew to her room to clean up and change. This was too important for notes - she'd need to speak with Varric and Anders in person, especially. Fenris she could send word to, asking him to meet her that evening; Orsino she <em>had<em> to send a note to. There was no way she could depart for a trip like this without seeing him again, saying good-bye.

Sitting down at her desk, she scribbled a quick letter to Fenris – it was short and to the point: "_Fen – got word that Bethany is lost in the deep roads with some other Wardens, probably near the forgotten thaig. Am going after her tomorrow; will you come? If so, meet me back at the estate at twilight and we'll discuss. Am going to bring Anders and Varric too, if they'll come. Thanks. – Hawke."_

Orsino's letter took a bit more thought. "_Love – Delilah Howe, the sister of Bethany's close friend and apparent beloved in the Grey Wardens came to see me today; she's afraid that the two – Bethany and Nathaniel – are lost in the deep roads near the thaig where we found Bartrand's idol. I have to go after her – I know you understand, but that doesn't change that I don't _want_ to go. Please come to the estate this evening? I'll be making plans until around twilight, but I _must_ see you again before I go. Am sending this via Wolf so if you cannot make it for some reason please – let him know. Otherwise, I will expect you. I love you. - Lise."_

Once both notes were sent off via Wolf and Jemmy, she grabbed her wraps and made her way quickly to the Hanged Man. As luck would have it, Anders was visiting Varric; he was about to leave after greeting Hawke quietly but she shook her head, beckoning to him. "I need to talk to both of you. Can we get drinks sent up, Varric?"

He raised his eyebrow as Anders also looked perplexed. "Of course I can, Beautiful. Everything all right?"

She shook her head. "Tell you upstairs."

When the three of them were sitting around the table with mugs of ale, she outlined her conversation with Delilah. Varric went a little pale, and Anders blinked. "Delilah Howe? Nathaniel? I'll be. I haven't seen either of them since I left the Wardens. If Nathaniel's involved, they'll be fine – of course we'll go after them, but he's the best tracker I've ever met. He got us out of more scrapes than I could count on both hands – I told you that the Warden-Commander was a mage, too? She and I got into all sorts of trouble." He frowned. "But... I hope they're all right, all the same. I'd like to see Nate again."

Varric leaned forward. "Well, when do we leave?"

She gave them both a nod, closing her eyes gratefully. "I was hoping you could see to supplies, Varric – and Anders, that you could get together any medical kits we might need. I've got Fenris coming by tonight – we can all discuss then – but I _really_ want to go as early tomorrow as we can. I really don't want to go back, but-"

"-but we have to find Sunshine. There's no question about that." Varric already had his spectacles on, digging through the paperwork on his desk. "I'll get out that new map we had made, and as long as you don't mind paying a little – I'd say probably about ten percent – higher than standard for supplies, we can be ready to go first thing in the morning. Take into account farewells and last-minute preparations, and we should be able to be on the road by noon."

Lise walked over to Varric, giving him a huge hug and kiss on the cheek. "You're my favourite dwarf, you know that?"

He chuckled. "Of course I am. I'm the best one out there, after all." He patted her on the arm. "Now, Blondie, go ahead and do what you need to do. We'll all meet up at the estate at dark?" They nodded, parting ways, and she went back to begin packing frantically.

* * *

><p>Orsino came to her long before twilight – Lise was still packing when, looking up, she saw him standing in her bedroom door, frowning. She stood, and he held out his arms; she went to him without saying anything. Kissing her hair, he asked quietly, "Are you all right?"<p>

She nodded. "I think so – it's so sudden and so unexpected, I haven't had much time to worry, I've been so busy planning. And if we leave as soon as we can, I'll be too busy travelling to worry then. I hope." She shivered a little and he tightened his arms. "I'll _miss_ you, Orsino."

"I'll miss you too, Lise – I wish you didn't have to go – I'm going to be selfish for a moment and say that if I could, I'd keep you here. But I can't, and I wouldn't. I do suggest, however, that you write a letter to Meredith informing her of where you'll be – she'd take it amiss if you just left without it – and you'll need to let the rest of your companions know, of course?"

Lise blinked, then swore quietly. "Good thing you're here to be my brain – I'd completely forgotten about all of that." She finished rolling some clothes and sundry items – soap, matches, a brush – into a bundle and turned to leave the room, but Orsino, who'd sat down on her bed to watch her pack – caught her wrist and drew her to him.

"Sit with me, just for a moment. I know you have things to do, I _know _you have to get ready... but if I'm going to be able to let you leave, I need to hold you now."

She nodded, closing her eyes as he pulled her into his lap. "I'm going to miss you so much, Orsino... I know we were apart for months, one time – I know that a year ago we barely knew each other, but..." she trailed off, sighing, and hid her face in his shoulder.

Orsino stroked her hair. "I know, love. I don't want to let you go, but we'll make it work. You know I'll watch for you every day."

"I'll go as carefully as I can, but also as quickly. There and back again – I don't care about treasure, I have no need for more lyrium. I just want to find my sister and her companions and come back." She looked up. "And you'll leave the shard alone until I return?"

He nodded and kissed her hair. "I promise." He rested his forehead against hers, looking into her eyes for a while, then she kissed him, gently.

* * *

><p>Fenris arrived shortly before twilight, and Varric and Anders were not far behind. She'd just finished filling Fenris in on the details when the dwarf and mage arrived together. Orsino was still with her – there was a moment where he and Anders sized one another up, but there appeared to be a truce for the sake of expediency. Varric brought out the map and they all poured over it.<p>

After they'd found the closest entrance, Lise straightened up. "Everyone is going, correct? Fen?"

He just looked at her. "Do you really think I'd let you go without me? Even Orana told me that I had to go, and you know how worried she gets when I so much as venture to the Wounded Coast."

Lise nodded. "Thank you. Would she like to stay here until we return? It might be more comfortable, since Sebastian is still in Starkhaven; Bodahn and Sandal will be here, as will Delilah, Nathaniel's sister."

"That's a good idea." He looked a little relieved, and nodded. "I'll bring her tomorrow morning when I return."

Varric spoke up. "We've got our route – and I've got supplies set to arrive no later than ten in the morning. Didn't cost me as much as I'd expected – apparently throwing the Champion's name around as _well_ as her money actually does some good!" They all chuckled, and he folded the map. "I guess that means that we should all get home and get some rest – I know Beautiful, and if we're not out of bed by sun-up she'll be there to _make _us get up." Thanks to him, the planning party broke up on a happier note than it'd started, and Lise actually felt a little hope as she waved to Fenris as he left.

When the door closed, Orsino put his head on her shoulder. "Anders is going?"

She nodded, quietly. "Are you mad?"

He shook his head. "I can't be mad, love. I'm already terrified that you're going – if you went without a healer, I'd probably give Meredith the slip just to travel with you." Lise chuckled, and he continued. "No, love. I trust you. But I should let you know – if he touches you, I _will_ make him regret it."

Lise ran her fingers through his hair, softly. "Don't worry. There's a lot between Anders and I, and we're not the friends we once were, though it hurts me to admit it. But he's honourable. He knows how I feel about you, and even if he doesn't approve, he would never do anything to make me uncomfortable."

Nodding, Orsino kissed her shoulder. "I will be at ease, then – as much as I can be until you return. I will not come tomorrow – I don't know that I could watch you walk away without showing the world how much I love you – but tonight, _emma sa'lath_, I will make _sure_ that you remember me."

* * *

><p><em><strong>emma sa'lath<strong> (EHM-mah sah-lath)_: my one love


	25. In the Deep Roads

_I'm noticing that some of my timing is off if Hawke got a letter from Bethany so recently, yet they've been gone a while; just chalk it up to bad postal service. Otherwise, if you're enjoying, please let me know! Also, yay for Nathaniel! I may write a story about him at some point ^_^._

* * *

><p><em>Ch. 25, fun with darkspawn.<em>

It was the chill that woke Lise the next morning; blinking in the pre-dawn greyness she realized that she'd fallen asleep on top of her covers and all that was keeping her warm was a simple cloak of black, lined with red. She smiled softly and a little sadly, curling up under it and burying her face in its folds; it was Orsino's, and she realized that he must have left the estate after she fell asleep. She knew him; he'd intended his cloak to be something she took with her to the deep roads. It smelled like him; she closed her eyes, remembering the night before, and it took her a few moments to compose herself before she was able to get out of bed.

She checked her bags as she ate a light breakfast; she had everything she could think they'd need – Anders would be bringing the medical supplies, and the merchant had already delivered their rations and blankets and the other sundry needfuls they'd be taking with them. She hesitated, but then packed her violin; it was light and they might want or need the music to help pass the time. Although that was one good thing about the deep roads – there was no night or day, so there was no reason not to travel until you were tired, and once you were rested, get up and travel again. She found that as much as she hated it underground, it was certainly quicker going than on the surface.

It was a little after ten when everyone was assembled and packed; Delilah had come early, and Orana gave Fenris a tearful farewell that made Lise sniffle a little herself. She already missed Orsino, but understood why he hadn't come to say farewell.

With the current attitude amongst the group, it seemed like the weather should reflect it with a chill iciness hinting at winter, but instead it was another perfect day much like the day before. She had a last look at her garden – Merrill would come by daily to care for it – and after a few more hugs and instructions, they set out.

The entrance they'd chosen was about half a day's walk down the Wounded Coast – it should cut off a good several days' travel from their prior trip, now that they knew where many of the rockfalls and closed passages were. That wasn't to say that there mightn't be _more_, but there had been a few dwarven survey teams that Varric had hired to map the upper levels and they were relatively confident that they'd be able to get far in the first two days or so.

* * *

><p>Their trip to the crevasse entrance was relatively quick and silent; the talk was the usual out-on-a-job banter, but it mostly fell to Hawke and Varric to keep it going and as both were worried about Bethany, it wasn't as lively as usual. As they arrived at their destination just before dusk, there was time to gather firewood to cook before it got truly dark. They ate quietly, using the more perishable of the goods they'd brought, as well as the leftovers that Orana had given Fenris; when they were done, Lise looked up at the rising moon.<p>

"I'm not ready for bed. Anyone else beat?" There was a general shaking of heads; they hadn't done this sort of travelling in some time but that just meant that everyone had more energy to keep going. "All right, then I vote we go on and head down; we'll get as far as we can tonight. We can stop once people are tripping and yawning and call it a night then. Got the map, Varric?"

He chuckled. "I've gone one better, Beautiful. I've got a copy for each of us, because I remember when Sandal _sat_ on the map last time. Took a whole day to trace the missing bits."

"You're a lifesaver. Now, where's our route again?"

They poured over the maps in front of the fire to make sure they all corresponded and that everyone knew the path – "We _are _going to do our best to avoid corrupted rock demons, aren't we?" Anders gave a chuckle.

Varric rolled his eyes. "No, because last time worked _so well_. But at least you get points for joking, Blondie."

He shrugged. "What can I say? I'm trying. It's been a while since we were all out on the road together."

"Yes, and it's been _so nice_." Fenris grumbled.

Hawke stood up. "All right, everyone. We've done this sort of thing before and as our only goal is to find the Wardens-" she looked at Varric "-no, we're _not_ looking for more treasure-" and he sighed "-then we shouldn't have any reason we can't all work together civilly. If you're going to kill each other please do it _after_ we're out of the deep roads and _before_ we get back to the city." Anders and Fenris both shrugged, and after making sure the fire was well-banked the group lit a lantern and began their descent down into the earth.

* * *

><p>For most of the night, Lise was glad of her cloak – not only did it remind her of Orsino, but it was clammy and cold in the caves and passages they traversed, being so close to the Waking Sea. A few times they had to divert their path around a larger-than-usual stream or underground inlet – most full of very salty water, as she had the misfortune to find out when she tried to drink at the first one they came across. She shrugged. "I guess we'll just have to hope for more water further in. At least our skins are full enough and good for another day or two at least."<p>

After a few hours they hit a steep section that took them much deeper, much more quickly. About halfway down they checked the maps; things were going well - they hadn't seen any darkspawn _yet_, and they were still on the right route. It began to get warmer, was comfortable for a bit, and had just started to get a little hot when Lise called a stop.

"I'm starting to get tired, and I'd rather have _one_ night that's not spent tossing and turning trying to find the only bit of cool rock in the entire deep roads. It's temperate, and still high enough that we should be clear from darkspawn. Let's finish up those meat pies and apples Orana gave us and then make a cold camp. That'll save us from having to break it in the morning, and if things keep going as they are we'll likely be within a half-day's walk to the thaig when we camp tomorrow." There were universal nods all around; they spread out their bedrolls, ate a meal, and Varric passed around a flask of brandy. Within the hour the camp was silent and everyone was asleep except for Fenris, who'd taken first watch.

* * *

><p>Unfortunately for the best of intentions, most plans never make it past the first day. Hours after she'd fallen asleep Lise was jolted awake by the screaming of shrieks - they'd surrounded Anders, who was on watch, and he was doing his best to drive them off with ice spells. She jumped up – which elicited a sharp exclamation of pain since she <em>hadn't<em> done so much travelling in such a long time and her legs were _very_ unhappy – and reached for her bow. By this point Fenris and Varric were scrambling to their feet and they managed to drive the creatures off, but no one wanted to go back to sleep afterwards. So they treated Anders' wounds – he had a nasty gash over one eye from where a shriek had caught him in the first surprise attack – and after breaking camp, set out.

"I guess it's time for partners, again. From now on I'll take first watch with Fenris, Varric and Anders will take second watch. How's your head, Anders?"

He gave her a faint smile. "It's fine, Hawke. I think I've gotten worse from getting drunk over Wicked Grace."

They all chuckled, but it was a bit forced; now that they'd run into one group of darkspawn they all knew that there would be more ahead – and there were. They came across a group of genlocks and emissaries before noon, and several times had to back-track and go slightly off course to avoid large groups with one or more ogres in attendance. She and Varric looked at the map when they stopped for lunch – they found a relatively-clean underground stream feeding a pond edged with lyrium, but everyone was careful to take their water from the stream and not the pool.

"Well, we're a bit behind, and a bit more north than we should be – thanks to those patrols – but I see something on this passage that I've been wondering about. Doesn't that look like a cut-through, Varric? Perhaps it's a shortcut." She pointed at a dark line on the map leading from the passage they were in, past some of the wider, twisting tunnels they'd planned to use, over to the relative area in which they'd planned to spend the night. It was too vague to have warranted a side-track just to investigate, but since the darkspawn had already driven them in that direction, it was worth checking out.

He shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine, Hawke. I hate this place, and I only know what I do about how to read dwarven maps because for one, it helps me make money and for two, it keeps my ass alive when you _do_ drag me down here, so that I can _spend_ said money. I guess we might as well take a look."

They finished their meal, making sure that their waterskins and a few of the now-empty containers were full, and set off for the cut. They reached it in a little under an hour, and although it was tight – Anders might have to stoop occasionally and only Varric _really_ fit comfortably – it seemed to be an actual passage.

"Even if we do come across darkspawn, they can't really come at us more than one at a time unless the passage widens out. Fenris, take lead. Anders can bring up the rear, dropping an occasional paralyze circle behind us to keep anything that might follow us busy. Varric and I will take centre – let's see how far this goes."

Things went smoothly for a bit, with no darkspawn and only one or two tight spots, but about halfway down they realized why it wasn't marked as a truly viable access – the passage widened up but only because it turned into a _very _small bridge _very _high above a _very _bright river of lava.

Varric jumped back. "Ancestors, this is why I _hate_ this place. Give me solid ground any time."

Fenris had already traipsed across, eliciting a "_Damned elves_" murmur from the dwarf, and he followed after, getting shakily across. It wasn't until Lise was halfway across that trouble hit; one side of the rock-bridge crumbled away just as she took her foot off it and she slipped. She couldn't stop her momentum, and would have slid off the span if Anders hadn't gotten a split-second paralysis spell off to hold her still while Fenris grabbed her arms and jerked her onto the other side. The spell wore off just as she and Fenris collapsed in a heap, and she slumped to the ground, shaking.

"_Maker_, I don't ever want to do that again," she murmured, running a hand over her head. She looked to Anders, who was still on the causeway, and whose face was white. "Thanks. Is it still passable for you?"

He blinked and looked down, then nodded. "Throw me a rope just in case, though?" Fenris pursed his lips, but brought a coil out and tied it to a nearby spar of stone, then tossed the end to the mage. It seemed that the rest of the bridge was stable, and Anders made it across without any additional difficulty; Lise had just gotten to her feet when he reached her, hugging her tightly. She smiled weakly.

"Thanks, Anders, but I'm all right, now." She looked at Fenris, who nodded, and she straightened her shoulders. "Let's not mention this back home, though, shall we? I can think of at least two people who would have a fit. Especially since we may have to come back this way, depending."

* * *

><p>The rest of the way was blessedly uneventful. They came across no darkspawn – only an oversized spider or two, which still made Hawke cringe – and it was only an hour or so past their projected stop time when they found themselves at the end of the passage.<p>

Fenris was the first to step out, but he froze as he did so and drew back into the tunnel. Turning around he shook his head, herding everyone several hundred feet back, hissing "_Darkspawn!_"

When he could explain without drawing attention, he elaborated. "There are at least fifteen, and one of them is an ogre. But they're right in the centre of where we need to go, and they appear to be following someone, or something. Perhaps tracking them; I heard signs of scuffle when I drew back."

Hawke winced. "It could be our Wardens. We're going to have to step in and just hope that there's someone out there that can assist when they realize we're fighting the 'spawn." She crept to the edge of the tunnel and looked out; the group was milling about, and the ogre was standing in the centre, head lifted, sniffing the air. Looking back, she nodded. "We're going in, but let me start it off. Anders – light my arrow."

He nodded, and with a murmur and a flick of his hand the head of the shaft she'd fitted to the string lit with a flickering flame that occasionally burned blue. She took a careful aim, longer than usual, drawing the string back as tautly as she could in such a small space; when she let it fly there was a whistling sound and it struck true, sinking deeply into the ogre's back. It roared, turning, and began to charge even though it couldn't see them yet; she dropped back as Fenris leapt out to meet it, blade held high. Anders began blasting away at the hurlocks flanking the ogre and Lise and Varric found a slight rise from which they could survey the field as they fired shot after shot.

They were holding their own, better than she expected for facing such a large group, and about halfway through the fight she realized why. Across the expanse there was a figure in the shadows who was also shooting rapidly and skillfully into the enemy ranks, which explained how so many of her targets were falling after only one or two of _her_ arrows. With the unknown's assistance, they finally cleaned up the darkspawn; she'd received a nasty swipe across the arm that tore open the scar she'd received last year when fighting the elven fanatic over the qunari gas, but apart from that and a few other wounds everyone was relatively unharmed.

Anders was just finishing a healing spell on her arm when the marksman came out from the shadows and began to jog towards them. When he was about halfway across she could finally make out his features – he was tall and seemed to be slightly older, and he resembled Delilah with dark, braided hair and an angular face; he had a beaked nose, a dark goatee – though it was longer due to neglect – and he wore the insignia of the Wardens. Anders looked up, and gave a shout.

"Nathaniel, old boy! It _is_ you! We came down to look for you and your crew, you know!"

The party from Kirkwall went to meet Nathaniel, who stopped, panting. "Anders? Thank the _Maker_ it's you! We thought the roads down here would be relatively clear – at least, that's what we were told – but we were set upon by that group we just killed and another dozen or so others that died to our hands earlier. Unfortunately they also killed most of my group – there were six of us – and-"

Lise grew pale and grabbed his arm. "_Bethany_. Is she all right?"

He blinked, peering down at her. Hesitantly, he asked, "Are you Elisebeth Hawke?" She nodded. "Your sister is the only other one alive, but she was lightly wounded and very badly drained, so I left her in a fortified place so I could scout another escape road. But then I got caught by that group-" he nodded towards the ogre "-and if you hadn't come along I don't think I would have made it. Thank you."

She'd relaxed, but just slightly, and looked around. "We'd intended to camp tonight and continue on tomorrow, but if Bethy is nearby we'll keep going. How far?"

"A mile, perhaps two. I can lead you there, but we _must_ return as soon as possible. I don't know if any stragglers escaped and I don't want them bringing back reinforcements while Bethany is alone."

They'd begun to walk as he talked, and Nathaniel and Lise took the lead while the others followed closely behind. He turned to her. "How did you know we were here?"

She'd been examining the bow on his back; turning to face him, she nodded. "Your sister Delilah was worried at your long absence and lack of communication, so she sought me out; once she learned of my connexion to Bethy, she told me the whole story."

He frowned, shaking his head. "I _told_ Delilah that it was going to be a long trip – by the time she was worried enough to come to Kirkwall we were still a week away from the thaig and not in any danger. But she's always worried too much – though I'll admit that this time it worked out for the best."

"How did it take you so long to get down here?"

"We took a different route than you did – we actually started in Ferelden, travelling beneath the Waking Sea for over a week. It made things easier, and there was information we wanted to gather along that road."

After a while, he looked at her again out of the corner of his eye. "Has Bethany ever mentioned me? Or, I mean, anything about the Wardens at Vigil's Keep?"

Lise smiled. "She has. She only spoke a little of you – though in glowing terms – but I could read enough into it that I wasn't surprised when Delilah confirmed that you two are quite attached to one another."

Nathaniel frowned for a moment, concentrating on the path before them. Then, he turned. "Mistress Hawke, please believe me when I say that Bethany is the most important person in the world to me. I would do anything-"

She cut him off with a laugh. "Nathaniel, please. It's all right – and right now is probably not the best time to have this discussion. But _believe_ me when I say that Bethy's happiness is the most important thing to me. Whatever it entails." He nodded, looking a bit relieved, but then she chuckled. "I'm not the one you need to worry about, anyhow."

"What do you-?"

Nodding back towards Varric, she shook her head. "_That's_ who you need to worry about."

Nathaniel blinked, looking at the dwarf, who nodded, solemnly. "I'm afraid we're going to have to talk when this is over, Ferelden."

Behind them, Anders snickered.

* * *

><p>They'd gone about a mile when the surroundings began to look familiar to everyone except Fenris – who hadn't come on the original deep roads trip – and Nathaniel nodded at her inquiring glance. "We're still about a mile from the thaig, but now that most of my party is gone there's no way we can do what we came for. Bethany isn't far away; once we make sure she's able to travel, I'd like to get out of here as soon as we can. Do you have a clear route to the surface?"<p>

Hawke nodded. "Relatively so, though a bit of it is tense going. We found a shortcut that allowed us to skip a good number of darkspawn patrols, but we still had to avoid several and fight a few more on the other side. Still, we can find somewhere defensible tonight to rest – if Bethy and Anders sleep all night their reserves should refill, and with two mages it will be much easier going." She unhooked her waterskin from her belt and handed it to Nathaniel, who took it with a grateful smile.

They continued on after the brief halt and had just turned a corner into a long, relatively-well-paved colonnade when Nathaniel pointed across the way. "There's a room over there where I left-"

In perfect timing, a woman's shrill scream cut him off and they froze. He and Lise looked at one another, and in unison, cried, "_Bethany!_" as they began to run.

* * *

><p><em>As always, the characters belong to Bioware. I just play puppeteer.<em>


	26. There and Back Again

_Whew - glad to be out of the deep roads. Never fond of that place, but considering what importance it can play if your sibling is a Warden, I was always surprised at how quick/easy the quest was in-game. Yay for AUs! Also, I know I've said that if you like this, please leave a comment - but I welcome criticism too. This is my first fanfic I've made available, so I'd welcome any critique anyone can give. As always, thanks for reading!_

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><p><em>Ch. 26, in which everyone is glad to be home.<em>

Nathaniel made it through the doorway seconds before Hawke and was already reaching for his bow when she flew inside. At first it was hard to tell what the situation was – there was an ogre, and it was pawing at a mound of debris, and _oh Maker, Bethany's _inside _the rubble. That's certainly defensible – but an _ogre? She'd drawn her dagger and knife as she ran and without hesitation launched herself at the brute. Landing on its back she sank both blades in deeply, causing it to rear up, roaring in pain; she held on and jerked one weapon out at a time, using them as pitons to drag herself up the ogre's back.

As soon as she could, she reached for its horns and forced its head back. It was clawing at the air – foul air, tainted by its putrid breath and the rancid tang of its blood – and all the while Nathaniel was shooting at it, trying to find a weak spot. She took a second to wrench her hunting knife out of its back and at the same time that Nathaniel took careful aim - sinking a thick, barbed arrow into the beast's throat - she twisted, flipping around to its front. Still hanging onto its horns, she drove her knife into its chest; it convulsed, tried to scream around the arrow, and failed. As it fell to the ground she jumped back, falling to one knee to regain her balance.

All of this occurred in much less time than it took to describe, and the rest of the party had just run through the door when the ogre collapsed, dead. Fenris ran over to help Lise up as Nathaniel started pulling aside pieces of stone and scraps of salvage; reaching in he took Bethany's hand, helping her climb out from her hiding spot. "Love, what _happened_?"

Not looking around, she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Oh, Nate – it's part of that group we killed earlier; I guess Stroud only stunned it. I was half-asleep, trying to regain some of my power, when I heard a rumble and some growling; I froze as it got to its feet but it could _smell_ me, so it started trying to reach through the rubble. I screamed, and not long after, you ran in. I'm so sorry I lost it-" she buried her face in his shoulder as he held her "-but I just can't _stand_ ogres."

Lise stepped forward slightly. "After what happened to Carver, no one could blame you, Bethy."

Bethany's head flew up and she spun around. With a look of disbelief she cried, "_Lisbet_?" and flung herself at Lise, who laughed as she hugged her sister tightly.

"Oh Bethy, I missed you so much!"

The two sisters clung to each other, laughing and crying at the same time, and once the rest of the party was able to get them to turn around and give coherent responses, Nathaniel looked out the door, concentrating. "I don't sense any more darkspawn, not anywhere _near_ here." He looked down at Bethany with a smile. "Can you stand to spend the night in here or shall we find a different room?"

She looked at the ogre and shuddered. "Honestly, I'd like a different room where there are _no_ dead darkspawn – if we can find one." Fenris was the first one outside; he and Nathaniel started scouting around the colonnade as Bethany and Varric had a laughing reunion, and even Anders gave her a hug.

It wasn't long before the two found somewhere relatively open and clean; the party gathered inside and, lighting a fire, shared around food and water as Anders gave both of the Wardens an examination. He patched up Bethany's wounded foot, and all the while she and Hawke chattered at each other. Finally, however, there was a pause during which Bethany nearly split her head open yawning, and Nathaniel leaned forward. "Bedtime, I think?"

When the party all nodded, Lise looked around. "Nathaniel, you and Bethany must be exhausted, so I suppose Fenris and I will take the first watch and you and Varric can take the second? I want Bethany and Anders to rest."

He shook his head. "I'm fine, actually. I'll take first watch with you, if that's all right?"

She frowned and was beginning to protest when Bethany squeezed her hand. Nodding, she acquiesced. "Then we'll take first, and Fen and Varric will take second. Got that brandy, Varric?"

The dwarf passed around the flask again and everyone settled down, Lise and Nathaniel finding space on the opposite side of the campfire where their conversation wouldn't wake the others. At first, it was small talk – about his family, about hers, about things that had happened in Kirkwall and Amaranthine since the blight. Finally, after a bit of silence in which they shared the flask again, Lise looked up at him.

"How long have you and Bethy been together?"

Nathaniel frowned, but it seemed to be one of concentration. "I suppose you could say that it's been since your mother died. I'd loved her long before then – she always fascinated me with how fragile and unsure she seems, except when she's needed – then she shows iron that I don't even see in some of the veterans I know. She won Varel's heart almost as soon as she came to the keep, and mine soon after. We became friends; I'm usually a bit of a loner, but that's just because I'm not as fond of the revelry and carousing."

"Then, when she got the letter from your uncle – about your mother, I mean – she fell apart. It hurt so badly, because she'd _never_ shown that kind of weakness, not even when she first arrived – and I couldn't do anything. Finally one day I just lost it." He smiled embarrassedly. "I got down on my knees – I still can't believe I was so ridiculous – but I begged her to let me help her. I swore to her that I'd do anything, if only she'd smile… and she did. It was small, and hurt, but it was a smile. The next thing I knew she was in my arms, and I was babbling a lot of things that I'm _not_ about to repeat, and well… there you have it." He looked at Lise, his face red. "I suppose now's a little late to ask for your consent?"

She laughed. "I like you, Nathaniel. I always wanted my sister to find someone special, though it seemed impossible when we were in Lothering, and even when we first got to Kirkwall – although that was as much about money and the kinds of people who _lived_ in Lowtown as it was her magic. I never thought that sending her to the Wardens would open the way – at the time it was just about keeping her alive – but… I'm glad she went." She turned to him, and smiled faintly. "For what it's worth, you have my blessings, and I know you'd have mother's. The last time she and I spoke about… marriage… she told me that she just wanted me to be happy, no matter whom I was with, and I know she'd say the same for Bethy."

Her throat closed up, and she hid her face in her knees; after a moment, she reached for Orsino's cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders as she tried not to cry. Nathaniel sat next to her, quietly; when she looked up a few minutes later he just handed her the brandy and she nodded at him, blinking away a few tears. "Thanks. Sorry about that, it's just been rough."

He shook his head. "Don't apologize. You had it worse than Bethany – she knew she'd likely never see her mother again, and she even still has her moments. You're strong, Lise – Bethany's always looked up to you, you know – but even strong people are allowed to be weak sometimes."

Resting her head on a few folds of cloak, she smiled softly, nodding. "I'm learning that, now. It was something I used to ignore, but… I guess I'm seeing some truth to it."

They sat for a while in friendly silence, occasionally sharing the flask, and then after a while she chuckled. "I could tell that Bethy wanted us to talk – and I'm glad we did. But she doesn't realize that this leaves me plenty of time to tell you _all_ about her childhood."

Nathaniel snorted, laughing. "That's fine by me. It's only fair, considering the first time I took her to meet Delilah my _dear_ sister brought out every story about my past. _Including_ the time that Fergus Cousland and I got our heads stuck in the stair-railing on the same day that King Marric came to visit Cousland Keep."

Laughing until her side hurt, Lise covered her mouth to keep from waking the others. "Father used to receive guests, sometimes – I think they were from his days with the Crimson Oars, or perhaps they were other apostates and like-minded individuals. One of them had a mabari – this is when Carver first decided he wanted one – and it was the most intelligent, _gentle_ creature I ever met. Rufus is wonderful, too, but as this was the first mabari I'd seen, I remember Phai especially. Well, Bethy took a liking to him – the hound, I mean – and they got along quite well, which annoyed Carver, who really wanted to play 'knight in shining armour'. They were both eight or nine at the time, I think."

"One day she put on her best dress – mother had just made her a new, pink princess gown – and was riding Phai around the barnyard. Carver was sulking, and he 'borrowed' the visitor's sword and shield. He didn't actually mean to cause trouble, but he went out into the cornfield to battle the scarecrow and the _minute_ the sword touched the shield Phai sprang up in full battle stance. Poor Bethy was thrown into the freshly-watered garden and when we pulled her out she was covered in mud and wet strawberry leaves. I was very proud, though. She didn't cry, but just sniffled and ran inside to see mother."

Nathaniel laughed, and the two of them continued to exchange stories until their watch was up. Hawke, yawning, was just about to wake Fenris when Nathaniel, who'd been looking thoughtful, spoke. "This is probably none of my business, but I'm going to ask anyway. I can tell that you and Anders are close. _How_ close, precisely?"

She paused, blinking, then frowned. "Well, it really isn't anything that I keep secret – we're good friends, but we're not as close as Anders would like us to be, which is why we're also not as close as we once were."

He nodded, sighing. "That's both a relief and a disappointment. It's probably for the best – there's no way you could be unaware of his story and his secret – but I also wonder if having someone strong to care for might not aid him." He gave her a wry smile. "As much as we bickered, we were friends, and I see him almost as a younger brother. There's a lot of good in him, but even that doesn't always help a misguided intention."

Lise's frown widened and she rested her chin on her knees. "I know. Believe me, I've thought about that. But as much as I want to save him, I can't sacrifice who I am or what I believe – or who I love – to help him. I just wish that supporting him as a friend gave him enough strength, but I don't think it does."

Nathaniel nodded again, stretching. "There's a lot of truth in that. I'm sorry to bring it up, but knowing him as long as I have, I wanted to know. There were some hints in some of your letters to Bethany, but she wasn't sure how to interpret them, and I figured I'd ask. Goodnight, Lise."

"Goodnight, Nathaniel."

* * *

><p>When everyone awoke – a little later than they'd planned, perhaps, but it had been a long day – spirits were higher, Bethany's foot was well enough that she could walk on it, and she and Anders both seemed recovered. They spent a little time going over the map with the two Wardens – their own were not as good in this particular area since Lise's group had the benefits of Varric's survey teams – and even once the perils of their small shortcut were explained Nathaniel thought it would be the best route.<p>

"Honestly, we can make do with the structural issues. If whoever goes across first is light-" everyone looked at Fenris, who sighed and grumbled and looked away "-then they can take several ropes across and secure them. At that point, as long as everyone is careful and we limit it to one person on the bridge at a time, we should be able to manage. Provided we plan carefully, I'd _much_ rather deal with a chancy bit of rock than a horde of darkspawn." There was a universal nod of agreement and after making sure everything was packed tightly, they set out.

Nathaniel led this time, being a better tracker than anyone else – and Fenris took the rear guard position. They made it to the overlook – managed to get across without incident – and after that everything went smoothly. Even going a little more slowly due to Bethany's injury they still reached their first camping spot by about the time everyone was growing tired, and the night passed without any more darkspawn attacks.

They were up early, as a good push would bring them to Kirkwall late the next evening and everyone was eager to get back to civilization. Hawke had made Bethany and Nathaniel promise to stay for the rest of the week – after pointing out that they _really_ wanted to make sure her sister's foot was healed well enough to travel, Nathaniel finally agreed.

Their first steps out of the cave and into fresh air brought sighs of relief all around, but there was collective murmur of disappointment because the gorgeous weather of their departure had given way to a grey, drizzling rain. Still, as Bethany said, "rain was better than darkspawn anytime." The trip back to Kirkwall was uneventful, although Nathaniel and Bethany both borrowed cloaks before reaching the city gates. Wardens weren't common visitors, and they didn't really want to attract too much attention.

The minute it came into view, Lise kept watching the Gallows – but she knew she had to at least be responsible and stop by the estate to check on things, as well as see how Delilah was doing. Varric caught her watching and snickered. She leaned over.

"Hush. I haven't told Bethy and I'm waiting until Delilah is gone. But I'll probably slip away after the first reunion is over – cover for me?"

He rolled his eyes, chuckling. "You're impossible, Beautiful."

* * *

><p>They weren't two steps inside before Delilah appeared out of the study; Lise stepped aside to let Nathaniel through and his sister flew at him. "Nathaniel! I was so worried!"<p>

He chuckled. "Delilah, you _always_ worry. We were fine when you set out, you know. But-" he looked at Lise, nodding. "-they arrived just in time, so I'm glad you sent them. How are Albert and little Thomas doing?"

She smiled. "They're good, but Thomas misses you." Giving Bethany another hug, she turned to Lise. "I cannot thank you enough – it is so good to see them again!" She hugged her, as well. "I know this may seem forward, but Bethany is like a sister to me, and now you are too. You're one of the family, and I hope that you'll come to Amaranthine and visit us some day."

* * *

><p>Lise waited until everyone was talking – Fenris with Orana, the Wardens with Anders and Varric, and Bodahn was flying about getting refreshments for everyone; then she slipped upstairs to wash her face and put on a clean tunic. Carefully walking through the foyer, she got her wraps and made it into the hallway and out the back door without anyone catching her. As soon as she was outside she set off at a quicker pace; it was already dark and she wanted to make it to the Gallows before it got late enough for anyone to question her arrival there. The templars on duty waved her through; Cullen was nowhere around, so she went straight to Orsino's study.<p>

The door was open, as usual; quietly, she peered in and saw that he was sitting on the windowsill, ostensibly reading – but his book was on his lap and he was staring out into the moonless night. It was rare that she got to watch him without his seeing her and she stopped for a moment, smiling to herself; all of the weariness he'd gained over the summer had disappeared in the time since she'd fought the Arishok and although he wasn't smiling now, he still looked better than he had even when she first met him. Silently, she slipped inside, but then made sure to close the door loudly enough to break through his reverie.

He started at the sound, his head turning towards the door; when he saw her standing there, hood back and smiling, he dropped down from the windowseat and walked rapidly towards her, a look of relief and joy on his face. Wrapping his arms around her he kissed her, one hand tangling in her hair, the other holding her against him.

After a moment he pulled back. "Love, I didn't expect you for another several days – a week, even! Is everything all right?"

She nodded, smiling as she rested her head against his shoulder. "Everything is fine, and we hurried as fast as we could. Luckily we found Nathaniel and Bethany quickly, so-" she trailed off, realizing that as it was raining outside, she was dripping on his carpet again. It was so reminiscent of the first time that they'd met that she started laughing; he raised an eyebrow and she explained, and then he laughed as well.

"You'll catch a cold in those wet things, Serah Hawke!" She chuckled, and he shook his head. "Really, though, you should have a hot bath – you haven't even sat down since you got home, have you?"

"Are you joking? I took the first chance I could to slip out and come see you. I knew it was too late to ask you to the estate tonight – but Delilah is going home in the morning, so if you come over tomorrow you can meet Bethy and Nate. He's nice – I like him – and he's perfect for her. I'll probably tell Bethy about us tonight, if that's all right?"

He turned back from his closet where he was rummaging for towels and a dry robe. "Of course, love. I want to meet her, and as you trust that they'll keep our secret, then I have nothing against it." He closed the door, kissed her again, and then rang for one of the servants; when Laretha looked in he nodded to Lise. "Serah Hawke came to bring me some information and was caught out in the rain. Will you get a hot bath for her?" The tranquil nodded and within the next half hour Lise was soaking in a tub in his bedroom while Orsino bustled around in the study.

When she came out, wearing his robe – it was a little snug and a little long, but fit well enough – he smiled at her, handing her a glass of wine. "I know you can't stay long, since it's late, but we at least have to wait for Laretha to bring your things back." He led her to a chair by the fire, but before he could turn away to take his own seat she took his wrist, pulling him down for a long kiss. After a while, however, he stood back up, resting his forehead against hers. "I wish you could stay the night, but it's more dangerous here than it even is at your estate. Laretha – or even Meredith – could look in at any time."

Lise sighed, rubbing her thumb along the patterned border of his robes. "I know. I wish we'd gotten back earlier – I missed you _so_ much. But right now, I'm just glad to be here." He pulled his chair over, close to hers but not so close as to excite suspicion, and she began to tell him about their trip; she even told him about the rock bridge, but kept the details to a minimum so that although he blanched and took her hand, he didn't react quite as badly as she'd worried he might.

Finally, after about half an hour, the tranquil came back with Lise's things, now dry. Reluctantly she changed back; coming out of his bedroom she started. "I forgot!" Reaching into her wraps, she pulled out his cloak – dusty, but not harmed in any way – and smiled at him. "Thank you. It made everything a lot easier to bear."

He kissed her forehead, holding her close. "I wanted to be there with you," he said, simply. "And although I couldn't be, I wanted to at least give you something." She rested in his arms for a few minutes, then he sighed, standing up. "Can I come by tomorrow?"

"_Can_ you?" She chuckled. "I'd be devastated if you _didn't_. Come over any time; we'll probably sleep late, but otherwise Bethy and Nate will be here for the rest of the week and I refuse to do anything except for the most urgent of tasks in that time." She kissed his cheek. "I love you, Orsino. Good-night."

He smiled at her. "I'm glad you're back, love."

* * *

><p>There were a few raised eyebrows when she got back to the estate, but when he left Varric told her that he'd explained it by telling Delilah that Knight-Commander Meredith depended on the Champion and that if Lise hadn't checked in, there might have been a catastrophe. She snorted. "You're such a liar, Varric. Thank you."<p>

"Mmm, any time, Beautiful. I like Howe – I just have to think up a name for _him_, now. Blondie went home as soon as he realized you were gone, and where; Broody took his girl home soon after and the other three have been talking all night. Thanks for the excursion, but if you'll excuse me, I have a bed to reacquaint myself with."

Nathaniel and Bethany were staying at the estate, of course; the first night, however, Bethany and Lise slept together in Hawke's room so that they could gossip. They were sitting on the bed, drinking cider and eating apples, when Bethany gave Lise a long look.

"How long have you and the First Enchanter been together?"

Lise blinked, blushing, and Bethany laughed. "I'm your sister – you know you can't hide it. You used to write about him a lot, and I wondered even then, but when you slipped out 'to go see Knight-Commander Meredith' I knew." She looked at the fire. "Is he good to you, Lise?"

Her sister nodded. "Very much so. We've been friends for over a year – I knew I loved him before last Midwinter. I'm sorry to say that we had a falling-out when mother died, but he saved my life after I fought the Arishok and I took that chance to tell him I cared. We've been together ever since; sometimes it's hard to hide it, especially knowing that we can't ever be together more than we are now, but... I love him. So there's no other alternative." She sighed. "I won't lie. I wouldn't ever say this to him, but Bethy – I _want_ to be married. I _want_ to have children."

Bethany hugged her tightly. "I know, Lise. It's not exactly _forbidden_ for us Wardens to wed, but it's definitely frowned upon; they say it makes us less focused on the Cause and the Order. And even if we did marry, the chances of us having a child are slim-to-none." The two sisters sat like that for a while, neither crying, but both silent. After a while, Lise spoke up.

"Bethy?"

"Lisbet?"

"Would you change things, now that you know?"

Bethany sat back, smiling a little. "Nathaniel's been a Warden since about the time we came to Kirkwall – before I got lost in the deep roads. I wouldn't trade it for the world."

Lise nodded, smiling in return. "Exactly."

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><p><em>The characters belong to Bioware, I just play around.<em>


	27. Secrets and Lies

_Hints of the beginning of the end - though there's still a lot more left. Feel free to favourite/review if you like it!_

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><p><em>Ch. 27, in which some secrets are revealed and others are kept.<em>

"Let me get this straight – you escaped from the circle because you wanted to find a _girl_ to sleep with?"

Lise rubbed her forehead, looking confused, a little disgusted, and thoroughly annoyed. Behind her, Isabela – at the bar, of course – snickered. In front of her, Emile de Launcet nodded earnestly.

"Indeed. There is a girl here – see her, there, across the room? She said that for three sovereigns she will lay with me tonight! She is attractive enough that it should be quite enjoyable!" Isabela was dying in the corner by this point.

"And you are content with that being your first time? Especially knowing that if the Knight-Commander has sent me, then her own templars may not be far behind? Is it really worth being branded a maleficar for _that_?"

The errant mage blanched. "But I am no blood mage! I may have... let us say... _exaggerated_ to impress the ladies, but you have to believe me!"

_Maker, if mother had married the Comte this might have been my _brother_. _She sighed. "For what it's worth, I believe you. But the templars may not."

"If I go back with you, will you tell them the truth? That I am not a blood mage?"

"I will do what I can, yes, although Meredith will not necessarily take my advice; I will still offer it, however."

"Then please, take me back now."

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><p>Back at the Gallows, Meredith paced behind her desk, her lips tight. "Well, Champion – Emile's father made quite an impassioned appeal on his son's behalf. With that and your request, I think we can allow him to return, though we will watch him carefully. Thank you, Serah Hawke. Again, we are in your debt. Now, if you don't mind, I have a lot to see to."<p>

Nodding, Lise closed the door, then frowned when Meredith was safely out of sight. Again, the Knight-Commander proved that given the right money and position, anyone was safe. She sighed, wondering if perhaps Bethy would be able to live in Kirkwall and not have to worry about the templars, considering how much power and wealth the Hawke family now had; but then, it didn't matter. She was a Warden now.

She was almost out of the Gallows' courtyard when she was stopped by Thrask. She nodded to him. "Ser Thrask."

He bowed. "Serah Hawke. I understand you recently brought Emile back to the circle?"

Nodding again, Lise frowned inwardly. She had rarely spoken to Thrask since the incident with Feynriel and she still wondered exactly what his motivations were concerning the mages. "I did. I am just glad that, unlike Evelina, he had not actually turned to blood magic."

Thrask winced, but then looked around. They were standing off to one side, and there were no other templars or any other individuals anywhere near. "And you truly think that bringing him back to the Circle was the right thing to do?"

Her frown became visible. "Ser Thrask, I am sure you've met Emile de Launcet. Do _you_ think he could survive more than a fortnight on his own? When I found him he was carousing at the Hanged Man, spreading rumours of his own blood mage status – which is untrue – merely to try to woo women into his _bed_."

"And you think this is better?"

"As reluctant as I am to do as I did, there's no way he would have survived otherwise. If he _hadn't_ been caught by Meredith – and I doubt he would have received clemency then – he very well might have either fallen into blood magic _or_ been used by someone else. Emile doesn't have the skills to survive on his own! We all know what happens when unscrupulous mages use and abuse their own – look at Tevinter."

"Yet you allowed Feynriel to go there."

"I 'allowed' Feynriel to go to Tevinter because there were no other options. Why can no-one see that there is no black and white answer to anything? The conditions here are horrible – that's true. Despicable things are happening and I wish there was a way to answer it. But what's the answer in letting them go when nine out of every ten I encounter attack me with demons before I even have a chance to speak with them? You know me, Ser Thrask. You know that when I can, I aid mages. Yet I've had to kill so many simply because they've already given themselves over to blood magic. Isn't there another way?"

He frowned. "I don't know, Serah. I just can't believe that bringing them here is acceptable!"

"If they prove themselves to _not_ be blind fools grasping for any power, including blood magic, then no. This is not an acceptable alternative. But just as I'd have no compunction against slaying or imprisoning a murderous bandit, I have no issues against locking up blood mages. They've made their choices."

He looked as if he was going to argue, but she shook her head. "Ser Thrask, I understand your worries. Do you think I don't feel the same way? Do you think I don't wish there was a way all this could be solved? I want things to change so badly that I-" she caught herself, sighed, and shook her head. "But this is _not_ the time or place for such a discussion. I appreciate your concern, but you must trust that I am doing what _I _think is right in any given circumstance."

Thrask bowed, though she could tell his thoughts were unchanged. "Indeed, that is all we can do, Serah. Although you cannot blame me for trying to change opinions I feel are wrong."

She shrugged. "To each his or her own. After all, is that not what the Chantry does – adjust opinions when they do not meet their own?" He winced again, and with that parting shot, she left.

* * *

><p>Hawke's walk back to the estate did a good deal to calm her irritation. It was almost exactly a year since she'd fist met Orsino – <em>what a long year it's been, though<em> – and the weather was cool, crisp, and fragrant. She detoured into her garden – _the apple trees have _double _the yield from last year. I'll have to tell Bodahn to make extra cider, since I can send some to Amaranthine now - and of course, the Gallows_.

When she stepped inside, she noticed immediately that she had a visitor – Rufus wasn't in his customary place on the rug and there were strange wraps hanging in the anteroom. She was just preparing to call for Bodahn when Sebastian stepped out of the study. "Hawke! I was wondering when you'd get back!"

Lise laughed and gave him a hug, then stepped back to look at him. "You look shinier than ever, Sebastian – or should I say Your Highness, Prince of Starkhaven?" She laughed again, giving a bow, but he reached out and took her shoulders.

"Never bow to me, Hawke. I would never have done this if not for you. It should be the other way around, in fact." He bowed deeply to her, then smiled. "I have my city back, thanks to you – and in a few months, I will have a wife."

"How is Flora? I saw her while Bethany was visiting, but otherwise I hear she's busy with the wedding plans?"

Sebastian nodded still smiling. "She is, though it will still be several months – likely in the new year – before we can be married. She mentioned that your sister was here, and I'm just sorry I missed her."

"I am, too. I think you and Orsino are the only two of our group that she did not already know."

An expression of unease flickered across his face at her mention of the First Enchanter. "Fenris tells me you two have gotten quite close."

Lise nodded – she hadn't exactly hidden it from Sebastian when she and Orsino had gotten together after the qunari incident, but he also wasn't around nearly as often as the rest of her companions and with his ties to the Chantry she'd always been a bit wary of bringing it up. "We have, although we must, of course, keep it quiet and subdued. I doubt the Knight-Commander would be too pleased to learn of it." She smiled, wryly.

He frowned lightly. "Hawke, are you sure about this? I like Orsino, he seems to be an honourable man, and he's always treated you well. He did save your life, after all. But he's a mage – and a powerful one. Not only could he be a danger, but just being with him is also dangerous."

"I _am_ sure, Sebastian." She smiled at him. "Thank you for your concern, but this is _my_ sign from the Maker, if you believe in such things – that he and I have been brought together time and again, even when we thought things were ended between us. Even if we're separated, I will still hold to him, because I love him."

"Fair enough, Hawke." The prince smiled. "You know your mind better than the rest of us, and I'm glad to see you happy." He thought for a moment. "Will you tell Flora?"

This was a thought that hadn't occurred to her. "I don't know. What do you think? I do like Flora – she's like a sister. But… if anyone found out about Orsino and I, well – you yourself pointed out the danger. Our close 'friendship' is tolerated because I'm the Champion, slayer of dragons, demons, blood mages, and qunari. Meredith thinks I'm a good influence for him."

"Actually, while the actual details may be different from what the Knight-Commander knows, she's not far wrong, Hawke. I think you must be a good influence on him, as you are on all of us. As for Flora, it's up to you, but I think she'd like to know. She was just talking about you last night – wondering when you'd find a nice man to settle down with."

Lise chuckled. "I'll be sorry to tell her, then, that I'll never get to settle down – she'll have to provide _me_ with godchildren to play with."

Sebastian grinned. "You never know, Hawke. If the Maker truly did mean for the two of you to be together, he'll find a way. Or do you not believe that advice you gave me?"

Laughing, she shook her head. "It's always harder to accept when it's about yourself, isn't it?" She looked around. "Is it just you here?"

He nodded. "I got in last night, and the only two I've seen so far are Fenris – because I _do_ live there, after all – and Flora. Because, well – you know."

"Well, why don't you go get her and the two of you come back for dinner? I know Orsino will be here tonight, and if you're here, Fen will probably stop by."

* * *

><p>Flora came by within an hour of Sebastian leaving. The two women embraced; Lise was glad to see that since Sebastian had confessed to her, Flora had become much brighter and happier. Today she also carried a large basket of what looked like fabric samples; when she set it down, a glance confirmed Hawke's suspicions.<p>

"You _have_ to help me, Lise! I've got to have a decision on my gown by the end of the week if it's going to be done in time for the wedding. Sebastian's no help – all he says is, "you look lovely in anything," and while I'm glad he thinks so, it's not really _productive_, is it?"

Hawke laughed. "No, and they never realize that. But it's nice when they compliment us anyway, isn't it?"

Flora smiled. "It is. Honestly, I never thought Sebastian would feel the same way – not after what happened to his parents."

"You know him, Flora. He's the most forgiving person I think I've ever met, within reason. The only time I've ever seen him hold a grudge is when I wouldn't blame him anyway – like against those Flint Company mercenaries. He _knows_ it wasn't your fault, dear. You were as much a pawn of your mother's as he was."

The bride-to-be squeezed Lise's hand. "I know we owe it to you, though. If you hadn't helped Sebastian, then convinced him to take back his throne, he might still be a brother and I would still be under my mother's influence. He told me that you two talked, too – about us, I mean." Lise shook her head, but Flora continued. "I was just telling him that I hoped you could find the same happiness, and he tells me that there is someone? Do share!"

They were in the study by this point, and Bodahn had just left with an empty tray after laying out tea, cider, and cakes. Lise got up and began to pace in front of the fire. "You have to promise you won't tell anyone, Flora."

"Oooh, is it someone gauche?" Flora began to grin, but when she saw Lise's expression, she frowned. "Of course, if you ask I'll not say anything."

"You know those rumours about the First Enchanter always spending time here?"

Flora's eyes widened. "My dear Lise! Really? But everyone _knows_ those are just silly rumours. You mean that you and he - _really_?"

Hawke nodded, blushing. "For a long time, when they were thickest, they _were_ just rumours. But then he saved my life after my duel with the Arishok…"

"Did you fall for him then? How romantic!"

"Actually, I loved him for a long time before that. It was just then that I realized I couldn't _not_ say anything. I didn't want to lose him."

Flora got up and hugged Lise, who smiled in relief. "Dear, if you two love one another, then I'm very happy. But… you can't ever marry him, can you?"

She shook her head. "No, but did thinking Sebastian was going to remain with the Chantry change how you felt about him?"

"Of course not, Lise. I was just feeling sorry for myself that I wasn't going to get a chance to put _you_ in a wedding dress."

Hawke laughed. "True, but looking at _that-_" she nodded towards the basket "-I'm not so sure it's an imposition."

"Oh, fie. You know you love pretty things as much as I do. Now, do you think this ivory silk looks better with the lace or with the brocade?"

* * *

><p>The two women spent the rest of the afternoon gossiping, and Sebastian – with Fenris and Orana – arrived shortly before Orsino. Lise introduced the First Enchanter to Flora, who drew her aside after dinner. "He's very distinguished-looking, isn't he?"<p>

Hawke smiled. "Thank you for accepting him, Flora. It's hard enough having to hide it from the world without having to hide it from my friends, as well."

"I just wish Leandra had known."

"I think she does – she already knew I cared for him, and mother was wise enough that she may have even known his feelings long before I did. And I'm sure she's watching happily." Lise smirks. "And Carver is probably raging like crazy."

They were laughing together when Wolf came into the room. "Messere, I got a letter here from Darktown."

Lise took it, frowning. "Thank you, Wolf. There are leftovers in the kitchen if you want to go help yourself. Get enough for the others – you know where the baskets are."

The boy ran off with a glad shout of "Hurrah, dinner!" and Lise broke the seal. It was, as expected, from Anders.

"_Hawke – I know we don't talk much, but something's come up on which I'd like your opinion and your help. Could you come see me at my clinic? I really don't feel comfortable at the estate any longer. Please hurry, because it may have an effect on much between us. I'll be here, __as usual – Anders."_

Looking up, she found that Fenris and Sebastian were standing nearby, waiting; Orsino was watching from the divan. "What does Anders want?" Fenris scowled.

She frowned. "I don't know – he just asks me to come see him as soon as possible." She looked at the elf. "Would you go with me?" He nodded, and she looked at Sebastian. "I'd ask you to come along, but I really don't think it'd be good for the Prince of Starkhaven to be seen in Darktown." He nodded as well, although he frowned.

"Flora and I will take our leave, then. Orana can come back with us, if she'd like." They said their farewells, and while Fenris was out speaking to Orana, she sat down next to Orsino.

"Stay here, love? I don't know if I'll need to go out tonight – but I do know that even if I do, I'll come back here first to tell you. And if not, I don't want to give up our evening just because I had to go speak with Anders for an hour and a half."

He nodded, kissing her forehead. "Of course. I can sit and read here as well as in my study, and I will admit that it is much homier here than in the Gallows. Plus, I get to indulge in Bodhan's excellent cider. Hurry back, love – I will wait for you."

* * *

><p>A quarter-hour later found her and Fenris at the door to the clinic. The lantern was unlit – which was unusual – and she could hear no noise within. Carefully and quietly, she knocked. After a moment, the door opened a sliver, then widely enough for both of them to enter once Anders had verified who the visitors were. He frowned when Fenris entered, but said nothing about it.<p>

"Thank you, Hawke. I know things aren't the same between us any longer, but I hoped you'd still come if I asked."

She frowned. "Of course, Anders. I still consider you a good friend, although I understand why we're no longer close."

He looked away. "I - that's a little of why I asked you here. Not _us_ – I know you're with _him_ and although I hate it, I've accepted it. But I'm beginning to see how much having Justice here has ruined everything good in my life – everything I ever cared for. So I've been doing some research on Tevinter theories of possession."

Fenris' scowl – one he wore each time he came to Darktown – deepened. "Why am I not surprised?"

Lise frowned at him, shaking her head. She turned to Anders, concern plainly written on her face. "Have you found anything?"

He looked into her eyes for a moment, flushing, then nodded. "I think so. A recipe for a concoction – a potion – that should do what I need it to."

"That's it? Just a potion and everything will be all right? The way it should be?" He nodded again. "I… I can't believe it, Anders."

"I know; I was as surprised as you are. Just mix it, use it, and boom! Everything will be set right. The only drawback is that I need materials. I've found the sela petrae, but I still need drakestone. Everything else should be easy enough for me to get from Sol."

Lise still looked dazed. "Oh, of course. Of course I will help, Anders! That's such wonderful news! When do you want to go?"

He looked away again. "Not tonight – we'll probably need to go out to the Bone Pit, and that's dangerous enough by day. Could we go tomorrow?"

"Of course! I'll be by first thing. Oh, Anders – I'm so excited!" She threw her arms around his neck, hugging him, and he returned it – although she did not see his expression, which was a strange mixture of guilt, chagrin, and pain.

"Thank you, Hawke. You're a good friend –better, far better than I deserve."

* * *

><p>She couldn't stop her excitement on the way back – Fenris was much more subdued, having noticed Anders' strange looks and odd expression at the end. He just shook his head, however, and left her at the door with a simple, "Good night, Hawke." When she went in, she found Orsino reading in front of the fire. She threw her arms around his neck from behind, kissing his ear, and he smiled.<p>

"It was good news, then?"

"The best! Anders says that he found a Tevinter treatise that will help him separate from Justice – it just requires a potion!"

Orsino frowned. "A potion? I find it hard to believe it's that simple."

"I know. I was surprised too, but he said it should work – we're going to fetch the ingredients tomorrow."

"What does it require?"

She frowned. "Darkstone? No… I don't really remember." She looked chagrined. "I was too excited about the news. I'll have him give me the recipe tomorrow."

Putting his hand on her cheek, he looked at her for a long while. "You're very happy about this, Lise."

"Of course I am – oh, Orsino, don't worry, please? It won't change how I feel about him – how I feel about _you_. But I can't help hoping for him, now – maybe he'll have a future, something to enjoy and look forward to and not this continual drive to destruction. He's my friend, and I want him to be happy again." She took his hand and drew him over to the divan.

Nuzzling her hair, he nodded, then started to kiss her neck. As she whimpered, he smiled. "I know your love for me won't change, _emma vhenan_." He pushed her gently back against the sofa. "But that won't stop me from wooing you again – just in case."

* * *

><p><strong>emma vhenan<strong> (_EHM-ma VEY-nahn_): my heart

_As always, the characters belong to Bioware. I just use them._


	28. Drakestone and Sela Petrae

_I'm sorry to anyone who's an Anders fan; if this Hawke was different, perhaps things would have played out in another way. Please don't mind my AU tweaks!_

* * *

><p><em>Ch. 28, in which the hero helps slay a dragon, but loses a friend.<em>

The next day dawned grey and cool and would have been a perfect morning for sleeping in if Hawke hadn't been so excited. She was up and about before the sun had even fully risen, and spent the next several hours checking and rechecking her armour and gear so as to not to disturb the others _too_ terribly early. Meeting Fenris outside the estate, they made their way to the Hanged Man – she'd sent Varric a note the night before – and were pleasantly surprised to find that Anders was already there.

"Well, are we all ready for a trip to the lovely and intriguing Bone Pit?" she asked. Fenris just shook his head – she could tell that her enthusiasm for the situation was not making him happy, but she appreciated that he hadn't tried to argue with her about it.

Varric, however, groaned. "Considering that the last three times we've been there we fought drakelings, giant spiders-" Lise shuddered "-and walking dead, I'm not _really_ sure why we're going back out there. Next will be talking rats or something of the sort."

She patted him on the shoulder. "Come on, you wet blanket. This is for Anders' sake, so let's get out there and back as soon as we can. He says this is the last thing he needs for the potion, right?"

Anders gave her a subdued nod. "Close enough. There are a few common reagents but Sol should have them all available."

"All right, then. Onwards and outwards! To the Bone Pit!" She led the way, whistling, and Varric and Fenris exchanged glances.

"She's awfully chipper, isn't she?" the dwarf asked.

Fenris nodded, frowning at Anders' back as the apostate followed Lise. "She's been this way since he told her. I can't help thinking that this is a very convenient solution to a very convoluted problem."

Varric shrugged. "Sometimes the best solutions are the easiest, you know?"

The elf shook his head. "Your wise sayings never _did _reassure me, Varric."

* * *

><p>Getting there was easy enough, and it was an enjoyable trip. The trees on Sundermount were all changing colour and in the distance they could see the hazy blue of the Wounded Coast. The sun was hidden, but there was no rain, and they made it to the site without any problems.<p>

About halfway up the mountain, Hawke paused, frowning. "We should be hearing the miners and the machinery by now."

Anders shrugged. "Perhaps it's their day off?"

"When would Hubert _ever_ give them a day off? Especially on a day like today when the weather won't hamper the work." Varric hrmm'd. "I suppose the best thing to do would be to go check. With our luck the machines have all broken – again – and you'll have to buy them new ones."

Hawke groaned. "I don't have enough cash for that. Damn Hubert and his cheapness."

When they reached the summit they stopped in confusion. The entire place was empty – the machinery and picks lay about, ready to be used, but there was nothing but an eerie silence hanging over the place. One of the big grinders was in charred fragments, but considering how often there were accidents – no matter what Hawke did to try to make it safer for the workers – it really didn't give them any information.

She frowned. "Be alert. Something happened, and since Hubert _hasn't_ come to the estate in tears, it must have been recent."

Anders stood in the centre of the clearing for a while, thinking. "Honestly, the best place for drakestone will likely be in the caves closest to the pit." He pointed up the hill. "Let's try that one. It leads into the pit, I think, and if we don't find enough there we might find some outside." They followed his lead and were very soon descending into the musty darkness. It was cold, considering the time of year, and Lise shivered.

"I don't like this," she murmured to Fenris. He shook his head, and the two of them fell back slightly, allowing Varric and Anders to go first.

They found nothing except a few spiders and a wolf on the upper levels, and in the lowest cave Anders finally found what he was looking for – an expanse of coppery-orange stone. "I'll need scrapings from the lower parts, the bits still buried. If it's exposed to air for too long it loses its potency." With Lise's help he pried the stone up, but they found that the bottom had lain too long against limestone and while some of it was usable, most of it had calcified.

He sighed, looking frustrated. "I guess we'll have to go outside. There's a chance we'll find some there, too, but it'll need to have been buried deeply." They found the small exit – mostly blocked by rocks – and although it took some of them a bit longer to squeeze out (namely Varric), they soon emerged into the lower clearing.

The place had always given Lise the creeps. There were piles of refuse and detritus everywhere, and she knew from previous exploration that a good amount of it was old bone from the days in which Kirkwall was still occupied by the Tevinter Imperium and slaves were sacrificed to the high dragon that guarded the pit. She paled a little when Anders said, "Well, if there is any that's usable, we'll find it under the bones. Let's start looking."

They began to poke through the piles – it was grueling and disturbing work. Finally, after about an hour, Anders gave a shout. He was near one of the edges of the pit – where the bones were the densest – and he waved them over. "It's a huge deposit, and even if there is limestone underneath there should be enough inside to give me more than I need." At Hawke's nod, Fenris helped him dig it out – it was far too heavy this time for her to assist – and the mage had just split it open when they heard a massive roar from overhead. A millisecond later – even before they'd had a chance to turn around – a shadow fell over the group and everyone looked up.

Lise swore, Fenris jumped back as he pulled out his sword, and Varric muttered, "One guess as to what happened to the miners, eh?" A huge dragon – larger than any they'd seen, its wingspan well over a hundred feet wide – was rapidly swooping towards the group. Everyone scattered as the beast landed, but before they could get to their feet it gave a sweep with its wings, sending them all flying back even further.

Finding herself knocked into a corner with Fenris, she helped him up as they had a hurried conference. The dragon had turned and was going after Anders, who'd tried – and failed – to get off a paralyze spell, when Hawke ran into the clearing, screaming incoherently. Once she had its attention – she was glad that she'd worn her Champion's armour that Meredith had commissioned for her, as it was bright red, making her a good target against the bleached bones and sand of the pit – she fired an explosive arrow at its head. The shot did nothing, as she expected – it glanced harmlessly off the brute's nose – but it exploded a second later. The flash enraged the dragon and if it hadn't already been chasing after her, it was now.

She led it on a circuit around the pit, dodging its fireballs – one almost singed her, but didn't quite – and listening for the momentary 'cracking' sound that preceded its attempts to buffet her over with its wings. She found that if she jumped as soon as she heard the noise, the rush of air would instead knock her further ahead, keeping her well out of range of its claws and teeth.

At the same time, Fenris ran towards an outcropping in the south where some of the bigger caves spilled out into an overlook. He climbed the rock face as rapidly as he could, then moved to the edge, poised to jump. The minute Lise lead the dragon back past the ledge, he launched himself onto its back. It reared when he landed, but he got a good hold on several of the spiny protrusions on its neck and it could not shake him off.

Hanging on perilously with one hand, he charged the other up – he hadn't used his phasing technique in a long time, but the potency of his tattoos hadn't lessened. He thrust his hand into its neck, grabbing the spine – he couldn't quite snap it, but the dragon still froze, confused and in pain. Lise screamed, "_Now, Anders!_" and the mage tried again with the paralysis. It took, and as the creature stood motionless, Fenris raised his massive sword and severed its head, then leapt down before it could collapse.

When they were sure it was dead – the body fell, lifeless, as the spell faded – Lise sat down, shaking. "Maker. Was that a high dragon? I've _never_ seen one that big!"

Varric poked at the head. "It has to be. Wait until I put _this_ one into writing!"

"Make sure, if you do, that Hawke's the one who gets the killing blow. There's no way I'm going to tell Orana that I rode on the back of a dragon – she'd die of fright." The three of them chuckled, then Lise looked up.

"Where's Anders?"

The mage was already back at the drakestone deposit, filling his pouches. After a few moments he stood, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Well, that's that. Can we get out of here?"

Hawke frowned a little – she knew he was eager to get his potion made, but he'd been distant all day and hadn't even seemed disturbed that they'd had to kill a high dragon minutes before. "Just one moment, then I'll be ready." She rolled the head over, then pulled out the dragon's two largest fangs and cut off its horns. "I want a trophy but there's _no way_ I'm hauling that thing back to town. Leave the rest for the scavengers."

* * *

><p>The trip back wasn't quite as quick as the one out – they were winded and Lise was limping slightly from a pulled muscle she'd gotten during one of the dragon's wing-buffets. They still made it back in early evening, however; once they were inside the gates the party split. Anders went off to the Gallows to see if Sol had the rest of his reagents, Varric went back to the Hanged Man to write up his epic "dragon-slayer" tale – he'd been muttering to himself the entire return trip – and Fenris escorted Hawke back to the estate to make sure she was able to walk it on her leg.<p>

When she got inside, Orsino was waiting for her. When he saw her limping, he frowned, hurrying over. "Love? What happened?"

She gave him a chagrined smile. "Well, it turns out that there was, er… a high dragon at the Bone Pit."

He blanched, then pointed to the study. "In there, now. I'll heal your wounds."

Lise shook her head. "I'm all right, there's nothing that a hot bath won't fix. It's just a pulled muscle." She stretched as he frowned. "Really. I don't know _how_ we got out of it all right, but we did. Fenris did most of it." She outlined the fight to Orsino, who shook his head several times during the telling, but nodded at the end.

"It sounds as if you _were_ lucky. I'll have to thank Fenris." Lise called Bodahn over, asking him to fill the bath, and then she stopped with a short curse.

"Maker, I _completely_ forgot about the workers! They were all missing, and I can only assume the dragon ate them." She frowned. "I'll have to send a note to Hubert – but the worst part is, his biggest worry will likely be whether or not his equipment survived and where he's going to get more cheap labour, not concern for the families." Going into the study, she wrote a quick letter – she was done by the time Bodahn had finished with her bath and she gave it to him to send via a runner. When he'd left, she rubbed her forehead. "I'll have to figure out a way to help out the workers' families. I was so caught up in the dragon fight, being excited about Anders' potion, that I forgot all about it."

"Did he find what he needed?"

"He did. Drakestone from the Bone Pit, and he said he retrieved some sela petrae from the tunnels beneath Darktown last week. I don't know what else he needs, but he's gone to see if Sol carries it."

Orsino frowned. "Drakestone and sela petrae? That sounds familiar. I don't-" he trailed off. "Do you mind if I do some research while you bathe? I'm curious about this potion."

Lise nodded, then kissed his cheek. "Of course. I'll be a while anyhow – I'm going to soak my leg for as long as I can."

* * *

><p>After a long bath, she mixed a poultice using some elfroot and embrium and tied it to her calf, then slipped into her house robe. Padding downstairs, she walked up behind Orsino, who was seated at her desk. "Find anything yet?" She leaned her chin on the top of his head, reading the first few lines of the book open in front of him – another one of Ines Arancia's texts on botany.<p>

He shook his head, absentmindedly. "Not yet. I've looked for those ingredients in the standard potions textbooks but didn't find anything – however, if they're only used in minute amounts there's a chance they might not be listed. I'm reading up on common potion ingredients to see if any of them mention either of those substances."

"That's odd. Anders said he needed a _lot_ of drakestone. And it had to be fresh from inside the deposit, or else it would lose its potency."

Orsino looked up at her, frowning. He stared at her for a bit – she was used to it, however, knowing that he went off into thought reveries frequently.

"I… wonder." He got up and went back to the library, then pulled down a tome from a very high shelf. She went to join him as he flipped through pages, and then he put his finger on a bit of text. His expression was unreadable when he turned it to her.

_**Drakestone** – a volatile metallic substance created from the mixture of dragon-fire and slate. Frequently found in areas where high dragons live, for which reason it is difficult to procure. For best results, the outside shell should be discarded and only the material from the inside of the deposit used when mixing. The Tevinter Imperium once used a highly-explosive combination of **drakestone**, **sela** **petrae** (see the entry on page 273), and **lyrium** (see the entry on page 12) to level whole buildings and city blocks in a single blow._

Lise's expression went from puzzled to angry to confused all in a space of moments, and as she finished reading she felt her stomach turn over. Her face felt hot, her fingers were cold and numb, and she felt a lot like she had when she'd found Orsino's letter to Quentin – only this time, the underlying emotion was white-hot anger. She looked up at Orsino, and he realized what Varric had meant when he called it "Hawke's angry face."

Her voice was quiet, which made it all the more frightening. "May I have this book?"

Orsino frowned. "Love, it's your book. But what are you-"

She took it, shaking her head. "I'm going to go have a talk with Anders."

"Are you sure? Dear, you're very angry. Are you sure you wouldn't rather wait?"

She growled. "Damn right I'm angry. He'd better hope he has a reasonable explanation or else a _very_ good purpose behind this."

"Will you at least let me go with you?"

"No. You'd only make it worse. This is between me and Anders." Her face softened a little at his pained expression. "Thank you, love. I know you mean well, but I have to go alone."

* * *

><p>It took her very little time to change back into her armour – still covered in dragon blood – and within a quarter hour she was striding towards the nearest entrance into Darktown. Luckily it was already evening, and his usual clinic hours were over, though he still took emergency cases at all hours. She didn't even bother to knock, though she did take care not to slam the door open. She was going to give him a chance to explain <em>before<em> she got angry.

Anders heard her footfalls and turned from the corner where he was bent over a table, mixing liquids from different vials. He smiled. "Hawke! This is going better than I expected. I should be done in a day or two."

She took a deep breath and laid the book out on the table, open at the page Orsino had found. She pointed to the entry. "Explain this, please."

He read it, frowning as he got through the paragraph. When he was done, he looked away for a while. "I should have known you'd do your research."

She felt herself starting to shake. "So, it's true?"

"It is."

She grabbed his arm, trying to turn him towards her. "_Look at me, Anders!_" When he did, she could see the pain and anger in his eyes. "Tell me the _truth_. _Is_ there a potion to separate you and Justice?"

He winced. "No, but Hawke – you have to understand! I didn't want you caught up in this. You didn't need to know _why_, I just needed your help!" His voice had raised a decibel and he was beginning to sound frantic.

She slammed the book shut, then turned on him, eyes blazing. "You involved me in this! I don't know what you're planning, but you _used_ me, without my consent! You-"

He caught her shoulders. "Hawke, listen to me. You _know_ how badly mages are treated! You _know_ what needs to be done! You say you're in love with a mage – someone trapped in the Circle – don't you want to see him freed? Don't you want to help him escape? All I need is your help to get into-"

He stopped short as she slapped him, the sound echoing through the clinic. Her voice was low, cold, and deadly. "How dare you. How _dare_ you? How _dare_ you use my emotions again? You _knew_ how much it meant for me to think you might be freed of Justice – free of this _damnable_ burden you carry! I _cared_ about you, I _cared_ so much – and you _used_ that to _trick_ me! You lied to me, again and again, _knowing_ what I thought was really happening!" Her voice had risen, now, and she sounded angrier than he'd ever known her to be. "Not _only_ did you lie to me, but you did it instead of trusting me. And you were right. If I'd known, I would _never_ have helped you. But you made me anyway! And _now_ you try to use my emotions again – you're trying to use Orsino to guilt me into helping you. I will not! I will _not_!"

He crossed his arms, his face showing a mixture of anger, fear, and agony. "Justice is part of me, Hawke. I will never be free of him, and even if I could be, I don't _want_ to be."

"So those pretty words about how Justice 'ruined everything good in your life' were just a lie?"

"They were. I never meant them. I only wanted you to help me. If I've learned anything over the years, it's that friendship and trust are immaterial – I will sacrifice anything to achieve our goals."

Lise grabbed the book from the table, turning on her heel. Striding back towards the door – ignoring the pain in her leg – she didn't even look back when she said, "Fine. But know this – if you ever _think_ of using that concoction I will find you, and I will stop you. I _know_ you, Anders. You will never get away with it. You swore to me that you'd always fight honourably – and you _lied_. I don't _ever_ want to see your face again. I won't even say good-bye – I just want you out of my life. Forever."

However, at the exit she turned around. "You're just as bad as a blood mage. They sell themselves and everything in their lives to a demon for a promise of freedom - you just did the exact same thing. I hope you suffer the same end as a blood mage, too." She slammed the clinic door behind her, leaving him alone in the dark, tears streaming down his face, his hands clenched in anger.

* * *

><p>Lise would have rushed up the stairs outside blindly – she was crying as well – but Fenris stepped out of the shadows, holding out a hand. "Hawke," he said, gently.<p>

She stopped, rubbing a hand over her face to wipe away a few tears and stifle a sob. "Fenris, what are you doing here?"

"Orsino came to me, and told me a little of what happened. He said you were very angry with Anders over something and that you'd gone to confront him on your own – but that he wanted me nearby in case things got out of hand. Are you all right, Hawke? What happened?" She began to sniff and he hugged her tightly, letting her sob on his shoulder for several minutes.

After a while she looked up, shook her head and in a small voice asked, "Is Orsino there? At home?"

"No. He said that Meredith expected him back at ten, which is why he sent me." The bell-tower clock had just struck ten-thirty; they could hear it echoing even in Darktown. Fenris put his hands on Lise's shoulders. "He loves you, and wanted to stay, but-"

Lise nodded. "No, I understand. Especially now. And right now I just need to be alone."

Fenris took her hand. "Let me take you home, then."

* * *

><p>The next morning, Lise woke very late. When she came into the foyer, she found Bodahn holding a long, thin, wrapped object.<p>

"This was propped against the front door, messere. There's no note."

She took it, knowing in her heart what it was before the cloth fell away to reveal a gilded staff. Sinking onto the bench, she began to cry again.

* * *

><p><em>The characters belong to Bioware; I just torment them.<em>


	29. Broken Chains

_From here on out there probably won't be as much banter. It's a shame, really, but Varric will still try._

* * *

><p><em>Ch. 29, in which Fenris exorcises a ghost and an old acquaintance says hello.<em>

Fenris knocked on the edge of the study door. Hawke, who'd been writing to Bethany, looked up. "Oh, Fen. I'm about done with this letter – come in?"

The elf nodded and took a seat by the fire; the days were growing short and it was less than a month to Midwinter, and the roaring fire was very comforting. He studied Hawke while she finished writing; despite his opinion on the subject he knew she'd been very unhappy after Anders' betrayal. She'd recovered, though – as much as she ever did. He knew that inside, she most likely kept it in the same place as her mother and brothers' deaths, she'd just learned how to hide it better; and that in itself made him unhappy, though he knew there were no other alternatives.

The first thing she'd done after she'd found her father's staff at her door was go to Aveline. She'd been pretty stunned – which was saying something, for Aveline – and she'd given Lise a long look when she'd admitted that yes, she'd helped him get the drakestone before actually doing the research. But the Guard-Captain had sighed, and said that they'd double the watch on the Gallows – keeping names out of it, of course – and probably the Chantry and the docks as well. Meredith even came to Hawke a few days later to inform her that there had been rumours that a group of apostates had plans to destroy the Gallows, would she track them down? It would have been amusing if it hadn't been so sad and frustrating.

The rest of her friends had taken the news with varying degrees of anger or nonchalance. Isabela said it was a shame, but she didn't really care, and Merrill had wanted to know wasn't there something that could be done? Sebastian just shook his head, and Fenris had grown white-faced when she told him, though he never said a word of "I told you so" to Hawke, for which she was grateful. Orsino's reaction was much like Fenris', but for a different reason. Varric took it hardest – apparently Anders had sent him a note and a small package that night that basically said, 'thanks for everything.' But he understood why Lise was so angry, and she could tell that even he felt betrayed.

Finally the letter was done; she sealed it and set it aside, then called for Bodahn, asking for cider and turnovers. Sitting down on the divan with a sigh, she turned to Fenris. "So, what brings you here? Usually you're out with Sebastian during the day – did he take today off?"

The elf shook his head, waiting until Bodahn had brought in the refreshments before speaking. She could tell he was nervous about something, which in itself was unusual, since _nothing_ ever fazed him.

He stared into his mug for a long while. Finally, she chuckled. "If the cider's bad, let me know. I can't very well send it to the Gallows – or Amaranthine – this way."

Fen shook his head again, laughing a little. "Sorry, Hawke. It's just that I don't really know how to begin – I haven't had to ask for help in a long time. But... you do remember that I have a sister, right? Hadriana told me about her."

She nodded. "You were worried that it was a trap set by Danarius – to use your 'sister' as a verbal hostage to get his apprentice out of danger, as well as set you off on a wild-goose-chase that would lead you back to him."

He took a deep breath. "Indeed. But I asked some people to look around – the same contacts that originally got me in touch with Anso, in fact." He paused.

Lise rolled her eyes. "Well, don't keep me in suspense! And?"

"Well, it's all true. She's not a slave, she's a servant, and no longer with Danarius. I wrote to her – it took a long time to convince her of my identity, but I did eventually manage. I sent her some money, and she's coming here to Kirkwall. She'll be at the Hanged Man tomorrow."

"That's wonderful!" She gave a delighted smile, which Fenris only just faintly echoed. "Wait… you're still worried that it's a trap, aren't you?"

He nodded. "I can't help it. Danarius is still out there, and he's still looking for me, I know it. The fact that he sent Hadriana four years later proves it. I think it's become a 'thing' for him – the winning is more important than the expenditures, now. And the more it seems like Danarius _doesn't_ know about this – about Varania, my sister – the more likely I think he _does_. After all, Hadriana knew where she was, and she had no reason to hide it – but every reason to reveal it – to her mentor. How hard would it be for Danarius to have her watched?"

Hawke frowned, but nodded. "As much as I don't want to believe it, you're probably right. But you can't _not_ meet her, of course. You want us to go with you, right?"

"If you could, I'd be grateful." Fenris sounded relieved. "All I ask is that we not get Sebastian involved – I _know_ how dangerous Danarius can be, and I don't want to risk that, not with his recent successes in Starkhaven."

"Oh, lovely. And yet you have no problems asking _me_."

He chuckled. "You killed the Arishok in single combat, Hawke. I'm not really afraid for you."

"Yes, and you saw how close I came to _dying_. I'm sure Orsino will thank you for _that_ assessment!" She laughed, but then raised an eyebrow. "Speaking of Orsino – well, if we're worried that Danarius might be there, would you like me to ask him to come? If it's the Hanged Man during the day, there will be no problems with him getting away from the Gallows. Our only other mage option is Merrill."

Fenris grimaced. "And she's not really the type I'd put up to face off with a Tevinter magister. The First Enchanter, however, _is_ as powerful _as_ a magister." He looked thoughtful. "If you would ask him, I think that would be good." He nodded, slowly. "Yes, as much as I'd rather settle this one-on-one with Danarius, at this point, I just want him dead. I don't care who finishes it."

"Well, that's settled, then. I'll send Varric a note warning him to be ready tomorrow, and I'll ask Izzy to lurk. I'll talk to Orsino tonight."

He stood up to go. "Thank you, Hawke. I really don't know what I'd do without you – what any of us would do. I suppose I should thank Danarius in the long run for driving me to Kirkwall."

She smiled up at him. "You're my best friend, Fenris. You don't ever have to thank me for anything."

"That's precisely why I do it."

* * *

><p>Lise told Orsino about it over dinner at the Gallows that night. She started with the full history of how she'd met Fenris, and then all of his past that he'd told her; he'd given her permission and she figured it'd be best if Orsino knew everything. He looked a little ill when she told him of Hadriana's fate – but she had to give him credit as he blinked it away much more quickly than she would have, had she been a mage. It had actually caused the only real fight she and Fenris had ever been in. At the end of the telling, when she told him that Varania would be in town the next day, he nodded.<p>

"Would it insult Fenris if I were to come along, as well?"

She smiled. "I was actually going to ask if you would. If Danarius _does_ show – and you have to admit that it's a classic set-up – as much as Fenris would love to take him single-handedly we both know we'd be fools to go in without magical support. Thank you, love."

He smiled, kissing the palm of her hand. "Even if I _didn't_ like Fenris very much – and I do – I would go to keep _you_ out of trouble. Ever since we sent Feynriel to Tevinter, I've been keeping an eye on the comings-and-goings there, as well as who the major power players are. Danarius is one of the more powerful – and most cruel – of the magisters currently in power. He's _not_ the one whom Feynriel went to apprentice with, thank the fade, but I still know of him. Since the qunari siege I've been a little more reluctant to just send you off into unknown fights, especially as you now no longer have a healer."

Lise grimaced. "Between you and Fenris you're not going to let me live that down, are you?" She laughed. "Although he seems to look at it from the other direction. _He_ thinks that makes me _more_ likely to survive such a confrontation."

Orsino laughed and caught her hand again as she gestured, pressing it briefly. As much as he would have liked to have pulled her into his lap, they had to be even more guarded these days as Meredith no longer knocked before coming in; she gave the lower ranked mages _no_ privacy and resented what little she was forced to give _him_. "That's because he'll never worry about you quite as much as I do, dearheart. Which is probably a good thing, as I'm really not sure I could win in a physical fight with him over your affections."

She chuckled. "Like Orana or I would let that happen. Of everyone, Fen's probably the one you'd have to worry about _least_." She toyed with a strand of his hair, briefly, her expression growing serious. "Speaking of worry, love – Meredith's getting worse, isn't she?"

He nodded, frowning. He hadn't wanted to bring it up, but he wasn't going to lie. "She's put a halt on all Harrowings for the time being – which has happened before, so in itself is not as worrisome, but the outcome _is._ In the past, if there was a question over a mage's ability – either his power or his intentions – he was given the choice: take your Harrowing, or become tranquil. Now there is no choice. We've been careful to keep the apprentices out of her sight, but a few have already been tranquilized, and I don't know how much longer this can last. She _hasn't_ started randomly tranquilizing graduated mages and enchanters, but her reasons when she _does _are becoming more and more tenuous."

Biting her lower lip, she frowned. "Are you safe?" He started to nod, but she put a finger on his lips. "Don't just placate me. Honestly, are you _safe_?"

He took a deep breath. "I believe so, at least for now – I'm probably the safest in the tower, which actually makes me feel guilty. My position gives me more leeway than you'd expect, except that Meredith is no longer just worried about blood magic, she's also worried, and probably rightly so, about revolution. And she suspects _me _of _that_ as much as she does anyone."

Hawke gave him a long look. "Are you planning one?"

Orsino kissed her finger, chuckling. "No, and you know you'd be the first one I'd tell if I was. I'm not _that_ eager to follow Anders, yet. But she needs to beware. I won't stand idly by while she abuses my mages."

She put her forehead against his, briefly. "I know, love. And you know I'd stand with you, right?"

His hand tightened around her wrist. "I'd hope so, _emma vhenan_."

* * *

><p>The next day, Fenris and Orsino were at the estate shortly before lunch, and Varric showed up soon after. "She's there, all right. Or, at least, there's a copper-haired elf that's the spitting image of a female Broody sitting at a table looking nervous as all get-out. She's <em>so<em> nervous that even Isabela won't flirt with her, out of pity."

Fenris frowned, though whether it was at the idea of Isabela flirting with his sister or Varania's nervousness, Lise couldn't tell. She put a hand on his arm. "She's meeting her brother whom she hasn't seen at least since before you got your tattoos – otherwise, you'd remember her, right? I'd be nervous, too." He nodded, taking a deep breath, and the four of them set out for the inn.

Varric was right; there was an elf in clean servant's garb sitting at the table in the farthest corner in the back. As they walked by the bar, Isabela gave them a surreptitious nod – the idea that she could do _anything_ surreptitiously always amused Lise – and Fenris took the lead as he walked up to the table. "V-varania?" He asked, a little uncertainly.

She looked up, and her expression flitted from nervousness to shock to pain to – guilt? Lise frowned, looking around, but she didn't see anything out of the ordinary. Meanwhile, the elf had gotten to her feet. "It _really_ is you, Leto. I never truly believed-"

Fenris frowned. "Leto?"

"That's your name. I'd recognize you anywhere, even if the magic did bleach everything about you – you look so much like mother." She looked down, and away. "Forgive me, Leto, I-"

He was about to ask what the matter was when Lise, who'd caught movement from upstairs, hissed "_Get back, get down, we have to run!_" But it was too late, and a cold, cruel voice echoed across the room.

"Ahh, my little Fenris. It's been too long, you know. You've been such a bad slave, running away for all these years."

An older man – older, probably, than Orsino – came walking slowly down the stairs, a squadron of Tevinter mage hunters at his back. Fenris snarled at him. "I am _not_ your slave, Danarius! These markings – I never asked for them but I will _not_ let you kill me to get them!"

The magister shook his head, still smiling that same, maddening smile. "Tsk, tsk. What little you know! And the title is _master_. We'll have you trained again soon enough." When Lise stepped forward, halfway between Danarius and his target, he turned and smiled at her. "Ahh, is this your new mistress, the Champion of Kirkwall? So lovely – I can see why you serve her."

Behind her she could hear Orsino suck in an angry breath, and she placed her hand on her hunting dagger, at her hip. "Fenris belongs to _no one_," she hissed. She saw the elf nod out of the corner of her eye, but Danarius just smiled more widely.

"Such fire – he's so talented, isn't he? I'm sure you don't want to lose your new pet." He raised his hand to gesture at Fenris, but Varania jumped up.

"Wait, you said – you said you wouldn't hurt him!"

Fenris turned to her. "You _knew_ about this? You sold your _own brother_?"

She shrank back from his anger, but Danarius shook his head. "Oh, my little wolf – do not be angry with your sister. She merely did what any good subject of the Imperium would have done." He raised his hand again. "Seize them."

Fenris lunged forward at this, but Danarius slipped away, moving back towards the upstairs area. Two of the six hunters moved to grab the elf by the arms but he struck one of them with the pommel of his sword, decapitating the man as he staggered back, and Lise tripped the other, reaching down to slit his throat when he fell. Orsino had two on the side locked down and Isabela, who had slipped around the room, finished both of them off with a series of backstabs and stiletto thrusts. Fenris and Hawke moved to take on the other two hunters as Varric filled the area with crossbow bolts, but before the men had stopped breathing Danarius started chanting, and shades and demons began to pour into the room, out of the fireplaces and floorboards.

Lise turned to Fenris, intending to nod him in one direction while she took the other, and was horrified to see that he was frozen in place, sweating as he fought the invisible bonds. From behind her, she heard a chuckle. "Ohh, how little you all understand. Those beautiful tattoos serve me still, as they will only serve the hand of the one who placed them. Cease your struggling, my little slave. Fight for your master again."

She backed away with a curse, into a demon who grasped at her throat. It nearly had her, but as she began to choke Isabela incapacitated it with a slice through its centre. She gasped, filling her lungs, and whirled around onto a rage demon, fighting her way towards Orsino. Danarius was no fool, and all of the demons were heading towards the First Enchanter – he knew that Orsino was the only person in the room who could stop the magister.

Lise slashed furiously; Isabela joined her, and Varric was trying to pin Danarius down on the other side of the building. Fenris was still resisting, but even the quickest glance showed her that he was growing weaker and weaker. She could only hope he wore himself out _before_ control was completely wrested from him. If he turned on them, they'd have no chance. She felled one shade, and then two – Orsino was fighting face to face with a pride demon _and_ a desire demon – and just as she fought through to the group she was momentarily blinded and shaken by a silent explosion.

A split second later she heard Danarius shriek in surprise and anger, then fear as Fenris let out an enraged battle cry in Arcanum. She turned just in time to see him jump at the stairs with sword poised, not to cleave the magister, but to topple him; once Danarius was down Fenris picked him up by the throat and hissed, "You are _no longer my master!_" and crushed his neck without even using his powers.

The demons were weakened by their master's death, and once Fenris rushed over to aid the others they were able to get them off of Orsino and dispatch them in short order. When they last one fell they were arrested by a strangled sound of fear from the corner; Varania was crouched, trembling, behind the table. Throwing his sword to the ground, Fenris leapt over the nearest table and walked towards her, throwing chairs aside as they happened to be in his way. He toppled the table she was behind and dragged her by the shoulder out into the main room.

"Why, Varania. _Why?_"

She looked at him, her eyes desperate. "He was going to make me a magister, Leto!"

Fenris' eyes flared. "_Don't call me that! _I cannot believe you sold your _own brother_ out for tainted _magic_! Is there anything in my life that magic has not ruined?" He pulled his hand back, charging up his fist, and Lise leapt to grab his wrist. She winced at the burning pain that lanced through her very bones, but would not let go.

"Don't do it, Fenris, _don't_! Remember Hadriana, and how much you regretted it later! She's your _sister_, Fenris!"

He shook her off, glaring, and from behind him, Varric stepped forward. "She's right, Broo- er, elf, er- _Fenris_. It may seem like a good idea now, but it won't solve anything and it'll just make things difficult at family reunions."

Fenris looked down at Varania, who was panting in fear, looking just like a terrified deer. She seemed about to cry. "You don't know what it's been like, Leto, since we were 'freed'. You don't _know_ what mother and I had to do to survive! Since she died I've been desparate. Sometimes I think you even had it better!"

He slapped her. "How _dare_ you say that? I know you now – I remember playing with you in the courtyard while mother worked. I know what she had to do for our _master_." He sneered. "I know what things were like after I got these damnable markings – yes, since I escaped I've been cold, hungry, and constantly on the run – until I got here – but every breath of freedom was worth a thousand meals chained to his side." He stepped back. "Go. Get out of my sight. If you feel like freedom is such a burden, go back to being a slave – but don't _ever_ come to me again." He looked down, fighting angry tears. "I would have given you _everything_, Varania."

As soon as he let go she started to run towards the door, but before she left, she looked back. "You _did_ ask for those markings, Leto. You fought for them, and with the boon you were granted with them, you freed mother and I. You did it for us – they weren't forced upon you." He blinked in shock as she closed the door behind her.

Lise put a hand on his shoulder; she knew he was struggling, but she needed to know. "Fenris, just now, what did you do? How did you break Danarius' hold?"

He looked at her, eyes still wide with surprise. "What? Oh – when he had me frozen – I didn't, unless it was just my struggles that freed me."

She shook her head, looking at Orsino. "Did you-?" but he shook his head as well.

"I couldn't even see Fenris through the demons."

Everyone looked towards Varric, who threw his hands up. "Not me, don't look at me. I don't know the first thing about magic, and I don't want to."

At the sound of a cleared throat everyone looked up to see a slight, slender figure – hooded and in Tevinter robes – come slowly down the stairs. Lise could tell it was male, but could not see the face.

"Actually, that was my doing."

* * *

><p><strong>emma vhenan <strong>(_EHM-ma VEY-nahn_):my heart.


	30. An Addition to the Family

_I hated Feynriel at first - such a whiner - but when you do the Night Terrors quest, I like him more. He seems very smart and quick-witted, and has a lot of potential. Enjoy the fluff, there won't be much more after next chapter, not for a bit._

* * *

><p><em>Ch. 30, in which an old friend is reintroduced, and Fenris makes several admissions.<em>

Everyone whirled at the voice and Hawke started; at the first sight of mage robes her heart leapt though she knew, objectively, that it would never again be Anders. Blinking away a wince, she cleared her throat.

"Your voice is familiar, are we acquainted?"

The mage reached up; as he pushed back his hood she saw a young half elf with braided blonde hair. She laughed in surprise. "Feynriel! How are you – what brings you here?" Everyone relaxed, and Lise put away her bow. Feynriel smiled, and shook her hand.

"Serah Hawke – or should I say Champion, now? - it is good to see you again! I am here officially on business for my master – unofficially, I am here to help you." She raised an eyebrow as he turned, seeing her companions behind her, and bowed. "I did not expect to see you here, First Enchanter."

Orsino bowed in return. "I was merely aiding Hawke and one of her friends; as, it seems, were you. Do not worry – I will not be reporting your presence here to the templars; the Knight-Commander is very unhappy when any mages visit the city without special prior permission, so this shall have to go under her notice, I think." He looked at Lise. "Would this be better if we reconvened at your estate?" He looked around and saw the bartender peeking in from the room behind the bar. "Actually, I think it _would_ be better."

She nodded, and Feynriel raised an eyebrow, but nodded as well. As they turned to go, Fenris put his hand on Lise's arm. "I can't go with you right now, Hawke. I've got too much to-" he shook his head. "I need to go talk to Orana." Lise's look softened and she nodded, then squeezed his hand.

"It's been a long few hours, Fen. Go do what you need; you know we're here for you. Do you want me to come by?"

He shook his head, still looking a bit dazed and certainly confused. "I'll... be by later. Tomorrow, maybe. I don't know." She nodded, and with that, he slipped out the side door and was gone before anyone else could speak.

* * *

><p>Back at the estate Lise and the two mages settled down in the study while Bodahn bustled to get a light lunch. Varric, sensing the reserve Feynriel had at his presence – the two had never met – had excused himself, but then pulled Hawke aside. "You're giving me any news <em>before<em> you go haring off, this time!"

She chuckled and nodded, but then said, "It might be best if you and Isabela help mop up whatever's going on at the tavern – make sure there's nothing to implicate us _or_ Feynriel. And give them something more exciting to talk about – you haven't debuted your 'Dragonslayer Saga', have you?"

Varric gave a mock sigh. "Ahh, Hawke. You were supposed to be there at the first telling, to act it out in tandem!"

She rolled her eyes. "Go_ away_, Varric. But you can come again for dinner, if you like. I'm sure everything will be settled by then."

Now, back in the study, once they were all seated, Feynriel turned to Lise. "It was certainly a surprise to see two of my saviours both at the Hanged Man – you might not know it, Serah, but before you were there to kill the demons in the Fade I ran into the First Enchanter, who gave me some good advice."

Orsino blinked. "I did? When?"

Lise flushed crimson. "I think I saw something of it – nevermind that now, Feynriel. Speaking of saviours, will you be seeing your mother while you're here?"

Feynriel frowned, and shook his head. "I can't. As much as I'd like to – things have changed too much, _I've_ changed too much." At the others' looks, he shook his head again. "Not like you worry, Serah-"

"Please, call me Hawke."

"-all right, Hawke." He smiled faintly. "Tevinter really is everything you warned me about, although there's good there, too. I'm lucky that my master is one of the better ones. He has slaves, but treats them well. If he practices blood magic – I'm sure he does, I'll come to why later – he does it behind closed doors and has never asked me to follow it. I've had others offer me things I never thought I'd hear – you were right, Hawke, about the temptations being more than I could imagine – but..." he trailed off and kept his faint smile, looking down at his hands. "I just remember mother, and try to stay strong. I'm afraid if I saw her again and the parting was difficult, it might change my priorities."

Lise nodded. "I understand. She's back with the Dalish now, did you know?" He shook his head, looking surprised. "She and Marethari kept in touch after the ritual, and before the Keeper died she asked her to come live with the tribe. With the troubles now in the city, I'm glad she did."

They finished catching up over the meal, and once Bodahn had cleared the remnants away, she sat back. "So why exactly are you here, and how exactly did you stop Danarius? Have you grown so powerful, then?"

He laughed, and shook his head ruefully. "Not in the least, I'm afraid. The story is as so: Danarius and my master are comrades of a sort – the type who I'm sure will stab one another in the back if necessary, but who respect one another's power enough to reserve such a betrayal for the most desperate moments. One night, several weeks ago, Danarius was visiting Master Trenthian, and he gloated that a 'treasure' of his was soon to be returned to his keeping. I'd been passing through the room to give my master a treatise, and as I stepped through the door I heard Danarius say, 'It is that slave I told you of – the lyrium warrior? He's being kept by the Champion of Kirkwall, and if all goes well I shall have him back when I return to Minrathous.' I stood outside and listened as long as I could, until I knew that he had some sort of plan that he felt would take you all by surprise – something to do with Fenris' tattoos."

"At that point I stopped listening and started researching – I knew that Master Trenthian would be sending an apprentice to Kirkwall on his own business, and that they'd likely travel with Danarius, so I learned what I could that I felt my own master would need, and then asked if he could send me. I think perhaps Trenthian guessed somewhat that I had an interest in Danarius' plans – but perhaps he felt that an apprentice would be an acceptable expenditure if it meant that a magister would be removed from the chessboard. No matter, however, he accepted. On the journey I managed to convince Danarius to let me hold the lyrium – he had a piece, you know, leftover from the lyrium he'd used for the tattoos, and that was what allowed him to control them."

At this point Orsino shook his head. "The law of contamination; something I never once considered. Now that I feel like a fool, continue." He smiled, wryly.

"All it took was a small spell buried in the stone – Danarius never thought to look, and would have been hard-pressed to find it, what with the glaring signature of the lyrium. It could only take so much before exploding; that was what you felt, and you know the rest."

Sitting back on the divan, Lise shook her head. "I never would have guessed – Feynriel, you saved our lives, I think. And what a story! I wish Varric had been here – he'd love to make it into an epic tale to tell before the fire."

Feynriel smiled. "If he leaves out the names, he's welcome to it. I didn't do it to be a hero, I did it because I wanted to repay you; I owe you my life twice over, Hawke, so it was the least I could do. And I admit that I wanted to see Kirkwall again. It's nothing like Minrathous – but that's a good thing, I find."

Lise tapped her fingers on the arm of the divan. "Well, seeing as you're here – would you allow me to assist you in whatever job you have? Within reason – you know I don't do blood magic."

Feynriel shook his head. "You know better, Hawke. Or, at least, I'd hope you would. It does have to do with a blood mage though, I'm afraid." When she raised an eyebrow, he glanced at Orsino.

She sighed. "The First Enchanter is on our side, Feynriel. Meredith is the one you need to worry about, and that's something we've been working on." She frowned. "It's good that you left Kirkwall when you did, though."

Orsino nodded. "I understand your wariness, Feynriel, but Hawke is right. However, if it would make you more comfortable, I can leave."

"No, if Hawke trusts you, I certainly shall." The half-elf smiled. "Your're the reason I was able to go to Tevinter, after all. If it wasn't for the two of you, I'd be tranquil now. You won't blame me for my initial reticence, however, once I've explained my errand – although you'll certainly be of great help, messere, now that you've offered." Orsino nodded, albeit cautiously, and their visitor continued.

"About two months or so ago, perhaps a little longer, an elf came to us. I recognized him, vaguely, from my days here – his name was Huon, and although I'd never spoken directly to him, I did remember him. I suppose he heard of my master from the talk when I transferred to Minrathous." At Huon's name, both Lise and Orsino leaned forward, their attention fully caught, and Feynriel nodded. "He never said it, but I could tell he'd escaped. He came to my master, begging to be taught, and Trenthian took him in, saying that he'd make a trial of it. Unfortunately, while Huon's skill level was decent, it did not really allow for anything higher than he'd been able to achieve in Kirkwall, and he was very unsatisfied by this. When Master Trenthian told him that there wasn't much else he could teach him, he began to ask about 'other ways'; obviously, he was speaking of blood magic, but even if Trenthian does perform it, that's not the sort of thing you admit openly to a new apprentice you're still not sure of."

"Huon pushed and pushed, but my master would not budge, and several weeks ago, Huon disappeared from our household. It was a few days later that Master Trenthian discovered that he'd stolen several tomes and, more importantly, a ritual dagger from the vault. I don't _know_, but I think it's one used for sacrifices." He looked a bit ill. "I don't like thinking about such things, but Trenthian wants it back, and it gave me an excuse to come here."

Lise sat back, pursing her lips. "You realize that if we _do_ find this ritual dagger I won't allow it to go back to a blood mage, correct?"

Feynriel nodded. "I have no issue with that, Hawke. I don't condone blood magic, and I never have. As long as I'm not the one to destroy it, Trenthian won't have any problems with my conduct. He'll assume it was Huon's doing, especially considering how unskilled he is."

Orsino frowned. "Skill doesn't matter when one considers blood magic, unfortunately. All that matters is the amount of sacrifice and how much bitterness and hate - or desperation - fill the user's heart."

Sitting low in her chair with her hands clasped before her mouth, Lise thought for a while. Presently, she looked up, then sat up. "Are you sure that he came back to Kirkwall? I would have expected him to flee even farther away."

The half-elf nodded. "Relatively sure. From the way he spoke I gathered he felt he had unfinished business here."

"He either means revenge against the Circle, or perhaps he just wishes to seek out his wife. Either way, I'll have to do some research." Orsino shook his head. "I believe the templars searched for Nyssa – his wife – when Huon first escaped, but had no luck in finding her. I don't know if she's even still in Kirkwall, but I'll see what I can find."

Lise shook her head. "If they were as devoted as you say, then she is still here." Orsino merely gave her a quiet nod, and she turned to Feynriel. "Do you have lodging?"

"I do, thank you. I'm staying with the Comte de Rantillesse, who is a friend of Master Trenthian's. If you don't mind, I should probably leave now and pay my respects; I'm not sure if I'll be free for several days, but that will give all of us time to research and regroup. I'll send a letter once I'm available, Hawke?"

She nodded. "That would be fine. I'll do some reconnaissance work, and Orsino will see what he can find out from the templars."

Feynriel nodded, stood, and bowed. "Thank you, then. Again, Hawke, I find myself in your debt."

When Feynriel had left, Lise shook her head. "I'm sure Huon's here, and he's probably searching for his wife, too. I can ask Merrill if she knows anything – you say her name is Nyssa?"

Orsino nodded. "I just hope she's not in danger. We should do everything we can to find her first."

Lise looked skeptical. "Surely not, if he loves her as much as you say. I mean, isn't she the reason he escaped?"

Frowning, Orsino nodded. "That's precisely why I'm worried, Lise. But… perhaps I'm merely being paranoid."

* * *

><p>Lise was in the garden harvesting the last of her herbs and simples when Fenris came to visit the next afternoon. His expression was not one she was used to, and she quickly put aside her trowel, dusting off her hands. She gestured towards the house, and he nodded. As they walked, she watched him out of the corner of her eye. "How are you feeling, Fen?"<p>

The elf shook his head, shrugged, and laughed faintly all at the same time. "Honestly, I don't know." That was all he said until they were in the study; she sat, but he proceeded to pace in front of the fire.

_Maker, he'll wear me out_. Still, she waited, knowing he'd say what was on his mind eventually, and he did. Turning after a few minutes, he sat down.

"I owe you both a thanks and an apology, Hawke."

"An apology for what, being angry? I was angry, Varric was angry, Orsino was angry – _you_ had every right to be."

He shook his head. "I still lost my temper, and I'm sorry." He frowned. "If you hadn't held me back, I probably _would_ have killed Varania – and I'm glad now that I didn't." She merely nodded, and he continued. "It's been a hard few days. For a while I could barely bring myself to be in the same room as Orana – I was so afraid I'd hurt her, after what I almost did to my sister – but strangely enough it was Varania's last words that helped me get past that. Knowing that even if I hate what I am, I took it on for the sake of my family – no matter what my sister may or may not think of her freedom – made me realize that I can still use it to _protect_ my new family."

The tone of voice in which he said these last words made her raise a highly-arched eyebrow. "Your new family, eh?"

He flushed, and nodded. "Orana is pregnant."

Lise gasped. "Are you _serious_? Oh, Fen! That's wonderful!" She couldn't stop the grin from spreading across her face, and he echoed it with a shy smile – certainly a strange expression for the elf.

"We've known for a little while, but I wanted to see how things played out with Danarius before saying anything, because I want to marry her, Hawke. And I wouldn't make her a target while he was still looming over my past." He cleared his throat. "Sebastian has agreed to perform a ceremony for us – until he's married himself he still counts as a brother, and while he says it's highly irregular, I don't _want_ to go to the Chantry and ask them. I want it to be private, but… you'll be there, won't you?"

She smiled, and the joyful tears in her eyes made him echo it. "Fenris, of course I will. I don't think I've ever been happier to receive such an invitation." Standing, she walked over and hugged him. "You're my brother, now that Carver's gone, and I couldn't be more proud." Stepping back, she looked at him, hands still on his arms. "Do you know anything about the baby?"

He shook his head, though he smiled at her compliment. "It's early, as of yet. If it's a boy, she wants to name him after her father, Hevard. If it's a girl, she wanted me to ask you if you would be offended if we named her Leandra?"

Hawke's eyes swam a little more as she shook her head. "Offended? Fen, I think it's an honour. Tell Orana that I'm grateful that she thought of such a thing."

* * *

><p>They were talking about the ceremony – Fenris wanted it to be soon, in the next few days, as there were really no preparations to be made; Orana wanted to make a nice dinner, but then Orana's meals were <em>always<em> nice – when Orsino came in, carrying some papers and looking thoughtful. He smiled when he saw them both.

"Good afternoon, Fenris. I hope things are well?"

Fenris bowed, nodding. Lise took this opportunity to give excuse herself, kissing Orsino on the cheek as she passed. "You two behave yourselves, and I'll be right back. I've got something I want to give you for Orana, considering the recent news."

When she left the room, Orsino raised an eyebrow. "News? Has something happened?"

Flushing, Fenris nodded again. "I just came to tell Hawke that Orana is expecting, and that we're going to have a small marriage ceremony in the next few days."

After Orsino gave his congratulations, Fenris looked into the fire for a bit, then back to the First Enchanter. "You know I'm not fond of mages, and what's happened recently hasn't done much for my feelings." Orsino nodded. "But while I may despise you as a mage, I find I respect you as a man, Orsino, and the one outweighs the other. Hawke wouldn't be here – either physically _or_ emotionally – if it wasn't for you . And while I may never feel comfortable letting my guard down, you've managed to prove that there are still a few mages who value restraint and willpower over power and greed."

At this surprising statement Orsino could only blink for a moment, but eventually he nodded. "Thank you, Fenris. That means a lot to me. I know how close you and Lise are, and I am grateful that you protect her so much and so well."

Just then, Lise came back into the room carrying an armful of filmy lace and satin in a very light lavender hue. "It's more than likely too big for her, Fenris, but I know what an amazing seamstress Orana is; this is mother's gown, which she wore to marry father. It's not traditional, but _their_ wedding wasn't traditional. I'd – I'd like someone to wear it." She blinked for a moment around a lump in her throat, and Fenris nodded, taking it from her carefully.

"She'll be thrilled, Hawke. Thank you. I should go now, but -" he looked at the two of them. "-if you'll bring Orsino to the ceremony, I think Orana would like for him to be there... as would I." Nodding at them, he then left the room.

Lise blinked. "What was _that_ about?"

Orsino shook his head, still looking surprised himself. He wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his cheek against hers. "I think he just gave us his approval."

* * *

><p><em>As always, the characters belong to Bioware, I just play with them.<em>


	31. Vows

_Ahhh, how I love fluff. I fully admit, we're at the end now and I'm putting off the inevitable - though not for long, as I can't. Sadly, this is the last fluff for quite some time, so make the most of it! From here on out the chapters may be short or long depending on where it feels right to cut them, but I promise they'll come as regularly as I can get to between weather and work._

_Yes, Fenris is wearing a cravat. I had to._

* * *

><p><em>Ch. 31, in which vows are given and leads are followed.<em>

When Fenris met Hawke at the door of the mansion two days later, she just stared. He was wearing a snowy linen shirt, a dark jacket of black and green brocade – only very lightly embroidered – and fine linen pants to match the black. He even wore _shoes_, which made her blink. Raising one eyebrow, she asked a single word - "Flora?"

He nodded, looking harried. "I don't mind, but it feels so damn _awkward_." She chuckled and followed him into his own study, where she sat and he proceeded to pace.

"Where's Sebastian?"

"Off at the Chantry. Said he wanted to make sure he had everything he needed to make it legal." The elf continued to pace.

"Varric?"

"Should be here soon." Pace, pace.

"Are Flora and Orana off in the dressing room?"

He nodded, frowning a bit. "Something about not being able to see the bride before the ceremony. If I'd known it was going to be this fancy, I would have carried her off to the Dalish – except that Merrill would have tried to come along." The pacing continued.

Lise chuckled. "Orana's enjoying it, though, isn't she?"

Fenris smiled, sheepishly, nodding. "She is, so... I guess the Dalish are out, eh?" He'd paused for a moment, but he then started to walk again and finally, Lise stood up.

"For fade's sake, Fenris - _Sit_. _Down_. You'll drive me mad."

He sighed, but laughed faintly and sat down opposite her chair. "Sorry, Hawke. I'm just so _nervous_. I can't help thinking that Orana's making a huge mistake, and that I'm going to lead her into some sort of danger."

She shook her head, walking over to adjust the buttons of his coat so that his collar of fancily-tied white linen showed to best effect – it really did look good, with his white hair and tattoos, and the green brought out his eyes. "Don't think about it that way, Fenris. I can tell you from personal knowledge that you're making Orana happier than she's ever been, and doesn't this just mean you've got a better chance of protecting her?" He nodded, smiling faintly. "Anyway, it's just cold feet, which I've heard happens to everyone. That's why I'm here, to make sure you're not going to run out on her before the ceremony."

He just rolled his eyes at her. "You know better, Hawke."

"Hey, it happens! I'm sure Varric has plenty of stories about it. I suppose it's a way I can feel lucky, eh? I'll never have to worry about Orsino leaving me at the altar." She gave him a wry smile and stepped back, eyeing him critically. She nodded. "Done. You look good, Fen."

He nodded a thanks, frowning slightly at her quick change of topic. He looked at her for a moment, but said nothing about it. "Where is Orsino, anyway? Didn't you say he was going to come?"

She nodded, clearing her throat. "He is, but he said he had an errand to run. He should be here soon, though, I'd think."

Just then, they heard Varric's 'Hullooo" echoing in the foyer – the two manors were built very similarly, although there was more dwarven architecture in Fenris' and Sebastian's home. They went out to greet him.

"Haven't run out on her yet, Broody? You're doing well." Fenris rolled his eyes and Lise laughed.

"Day late and a sovereign short, Varric. I already teased him about that."

Everyone laughed, and Fenris poured wine for them as they sat and talked. Sebastian and Orsino came in about thirty minutes later, chatting, and not long after that, a smiling Flora stuck her head in at the door to say that the bride was ready, would the groom please join them? Fenris looked at Lise, and she squeezed his hand, smiling in reassurance.

* * *

><p>The ceremony was held in the small estate chapel – the same room which served for an armoury in Hawke's mansion – and it was simple and lovely. Sebastian read from the Chant, Fenris and Orana – who was so radiant and smiling in her lavender gown that she was almost too bright to look upon – each spoke a few words and took an oath, and then Sebastian bound their wrists together with a velvet cord.<p>

During the oaths, Lise tried not to cry; she thought she'd been surreptitious enough with her sniffles until Orsino put a gentle arm around her shoulders, pulling her to him as he handed her a handkerchief. He kissed her hair, and the two of them sat that way for the rest of the small service; she'd wiped away her tears enough to smile happily when the oaths were over and Orana came to her for a hug. "Be happy, dear. He's a hard one to handle, but I think you're the only one who can do it." Orana laughed, looking back at Fenris, who was trying not to smile, himself; he grimaced at Hawke, and everyone joined in the laughter.

The "lunch," as it was, lasted most of the afternoon; Sebastian and Flora had made sure that there was far more than the simple meal Orana would have fixed on her own – their wedding gift to the couple. Wine and talk flowed freely, and Flora came to sit next to Hawke as Orana played on the harp. The two started discussing Flora and Sebastian's own wedding – now definitely set for the second month of the new year, in Starkhaven – and Lise listened, smiling, to all of the details about gowns and guests and flowers.

Halfway through, Orsino stood and kissed Lise on the cheek. "I'm going to talk to Varric, _emma lath_." She nodded up at him, smiling, and then looked back to Flora, who'd flushed.

"My dear, I am so sorry! I never even thought that you – and he – might not want to talk about..." she trailed off as Lise shook her head.

"Please, I don't want that to make anyone treat us differently. It's not really a big issue – we might not be able to have a ceremony, but it doesn't really matter. I trust him, and I'm sure he trusts me. It's just a title, after all."

Flora nodded, though she looked a bit dubious, wondering if perhaps Hawke's voice wasn't just a shade different when she said that. "Have you two ever thought of eloping? Sebastian cares so much for you that I'm sure he'd still perform a service, and you know that none of us would ever tell."

Lise shook her head again. "It's too dangerous. If anyone ever _did_ find out, Orsino could get into so much trouble! It's ridiculous – it _is_ just a title, and it doesn't change the fact that he and I are together – but that in itself is risky, so I wouldn't put more on him."

Flora frowned, nodding again. "I suppose so, but..." she sighed, and Lise smiled.

"Don't worry about us, Flora. You've got more important things to think about. Have you decided whether or not to refurnish the great hall before the wedding?

Groaning, the future Princess of Starkhaven laughed. "I have, don't _remind_ me. The tapestries all needed cleaning, and the colour of the wallpaper was hideous. _Mauve_, Lise! Who paints a great hall _mauve_?"

* * *

><p>It was dark by the time that the party broke up, everyone going their separate ways. Orsino and Lise walked slowly back to her estate, talking quietly; at the door, she turned. "Are you coming in?"<p>

He raised an eyebrow. "Of course? Besides, there's something waiting for you in the study."

She blinked, and he just smiled, holding the door open. "After you, love."

When she walked into the study and saw the table before the fire laid with a green cloth, a small chocolate cake with red roses, the last bottle of eiswein, and two glasses, she gasped. "Orsino, you remembered?"

He chuckled, pulling her close. "How could I not? You remembered mine, after all – and I didn't get to keep it with you last year. Happy birthday, Lise." He kissed her, and she found herself forgetting the pangs she'd felt through the day, watching Fenris and Orana. Resting her head on his chest, she smiled.

"I love you, Orsino."

He pulled back slightly, sliding a small box tied with a silver ribbon out of his pocket. Handing it to her, he smiled. "I love you, too, dear."

Opening the box, the ribbon slipped to the ground, unheeded, as she gasped again. Nestled inside was a small gold band set with an opal carved into the shape of a rose. Looking closely, she could see words etched into the band; _"abelas melana la aravel, vir lath uth'avir."_ She looked up at him with a questioning glance.

Orsino took the ring, and gently raised her hand. Sliding the bauble onto her finger, he spoke the words inscribed on the band. "They mean 'within time and journeys, we love together, forever.'" He kissed her hand. "I may not be able to swear to you before the Chantry, but I _can_ speak my vows before the Maker, and I do. I love you, and I will always love you, Lise. No matter what time and distance comes between us, my feelings will never change."

She started to cry and he held her close, cheek resting against her hair. After a few minutes, she looked up, smiling through the tears. "I'm sorry, Orsino. What with the ceremony today, and everything else..." she trailed off, and he nodded, kissing the tears off one cheek.

"I know, love. I'd already wanted to give you this ring, but when I found out about Fenris and Orana, I thought this would be the best time. I may not be able to give you what they have, but I _will_ give you all I can."

She smiled, reaching up to place her hand on his cheek. "It's more than enough, Orsino. I love you, too – and neither will _my _feelings ever change. No matter what comes between us, I swear it."

He kissed her fingers, one by one, then let go of her hand. Pouring two glasses, he handed one to her, then raised his own. "To the Champion of Kirkwall, Elisebeth Amell Hawke, on her birthday. May you have many happy returns, my dear, and may the year ahead be better than the last."

* * *

><p>The next day Hawke and Varric were in the study going over trade negotiations for the thaig when Orsino came to visit – it was renewal time and the Wardens of Amaranthine had actually put in a bid for full rights, so they were trying to figure out the cleanest way to accept the agreement without making anyone else too angry. Sitting back with a sigh, Lise saw the First Enchanter standing in the doorway and smiled up at him; he dropped a kiss on her forehead and sat down on the divan. "Working hard?"<p>

She groaned as Varric chuckled. "Beautiful here doesn't realize that this is what I have to deal with every day; _she_ thinks she's working hard, certainly."

Lise rolled her eyes. "Oh, come off it, Varric. I know for a _fact_ that the dwarven merchants' guild is _still_ waiting for paperwork that's over three months old. You left their letter on the table last time I came to visit."

The dwarf shrugged. "That's what they _get_ for being boring and unattractive – and they serve inferior ale. Why would I do their work when I can do mine, here, with lovely company and good food?"

She chuckled, throwing a crumpled piece of paper at him. "Flattery won't get you out of this one, though. We've got to have this finished by the end of the week." He groaned, and turning to Orsino she smiled, pouring him a mug of cider. "So, what brings you out so early?"

He took the mug with a nod. "Thank you, dear. I've actually come with some news. We were able to dig up Nyssa's address from when Huon was first brought into the circle, and one of the tranquil found a record of a new address from only a few years ago – she'd sent him a Midwinter's gift, and the address was duly recorded."

Lise sat up. "That's certainly a start! Merrill brought me a list yesterday – she's been able to find five different Nyssas in the alienage, and we can use this to cross-reference." She rummaged around on the desk, finally pulling out a scrap from underneath a book; another piece fluttered down next to Orsino's foot, and he picked it up. Reading it, he chuckled.

"'Borrowed one of your dresses again?' I do hope this is from Isabela or Merrill and not Varric."

The dwarf laughed. "I'd probably be able to fit into your dresses better than dear Isabela. Where does she _put_ it all?"

Rolling her eyes, Lise shrugged. "Maker only knows. That's probably why I have to fix the seams on half the ones she brings back." She sat down, running her quill down a list of addresses. After a while, she looked up. "Aha – here's one on the same street. Granted, she could have moved anywhere, but people tend to stay in the same general area." Pulling a piece of clean parchment over, she began to write. "I'm going to send a note to Feynriel, telling him that we've got some potential leads, and see when he thinks he'll be free. If he's still busy, we'll go tomorrow."

Sealing the letter, she called for Bodahn, who was just bringing in more cider. After he'd left to find Wolf, she turned back. "It's cold and raining. Do you have to go back to the tower soon, Orsino?" He shook his head, and she reached back behind the desk. "Let's play some Atashi, then. It's been _months_ and you owe me a rematch, you _cheat_." She glared at Varric as she said this last part, and he laughed.

"Beautiful, there's a difference between cheating and creative tile usage."

* * *

><p>A letter came from Feynriel before the evening was done.<p>

"_Hawke – it's good to hear from you; I've been busy with the de Rantilesse family, but I've still been able to put in a few lines of inquiry. Unfortunately, the only thing I've been able to learn is that no books or weapons matching the descriptions of what I seek have been sold or pawned here, so if he _is_ in Kirkwall, our best bet lies with his wife. Your information sounds promising, and I should be able to join you tomorrow if we want to go out to the alienage and look for Nyssa. Let me know when and I shall meet you at your estate. _

_Your servant, Feynriel."_

Lise shook her head, chuckling. "Well, if nothing else, Tevinter's polished him up. He's more of a noble than I am, I think." Looking at Orsino, she tapped the letter, thoughtfully. "It'd probably be best if you weren't there, love. Most people know who you are, and I'm worried that it might put her on edge, especially if she _does_ know where her husband is."

He nodded. "That's true, though I'd ask that you have both Feynriel _and_ Merrill there, if there's a chance that perhaps Huon is hiding with her."

"I can do that, and having Merrill around will probably help put Nyssa at her ease. Ever since she lost the last ties to her clan, she's taken on the whole alienage in a sort of protective wise-woman sort of position. They come to her for herbals and small problems, now; she does for them the same thing that Anders does for the rest of Lowtown and Darktown. They seem more comfortable with her than they would with a human, I think." She looked at Varric.

"Don't even try it, Beautiful. I've been left out too many times – I'm certainly going to be there. And I'd be a sight better than Broody, who would probably ruin everything."

She sighed. "He's better, yes, but that's true enough. All right; I'll send a letter to Merrill, asking her to be ready mid-morning. Don't sleep _too_ late tomorrow, Varric."

He groaned. "Why does 'being involved' always equate with 'getting up early'? You're a sadist, Hawke."

* * *

><p>They made it to Merrill's house shortly before eleven, and were surprised to find a slight elven woman already there, drinking tea with the mage. Lise had made sure to dress plainly; too fancy and she was afraid of looking out of place, which might make Nyssa uncomfortable, but if she'd put on her leathers to look utilitarian, she'd just be intimidating – another reason she was glad she'd left Fenris out. She'd even left her bow behind, sticking with her hunting knife at her hip and a dagger concealed in her boot.<p>

Merrill hopped up. "Hawke! I figured it'd save us time if I invited Nyssa out for some tea. Join us?"

Lise sat in the chair that Merrill offered her, and Varric and Feynriel took seats nearby. Nodding to Merrill, she accepted her cup and smiled at Nyssa, who was looking nervous, but also worried. "Please, forgive the sudden request; I hope this wasn't an inconvenience?"

Nyssa shook her head. "Not at all, messere, though I'll have to go back to the shop soon. I assist in a laundry, you see."

Lise nodded. "Well, I suppose the most important question is whether or not you're the Nyssa we need. We're looking for information on a man named Huon, and I was wondering if you knew anyone of that name?"

The elf flushed, frowning, but she nodded. "I do – I did. He was my husband. And before you ask, I do know that he escaped from the Circle, though I don't know when."

Blinking, Lise looked over at Feynriel, then back at Nyssa. "How did you find out? I believe the Circle did their best not to let word get out."

Nyssa shook her head. "I wouldn't... I wouldn't want to tell the templars this, because I don't want them taking me in for questioning – I swear this is all I know. But Merrill says I can trust you, messere." As Lise nodded, she took a deep breath.

"Huon came to me a few days ago, though he wasn't seeking refuge. I don't know where he's been, or where he's staying." She looked up at Hawke, who was surprised to see fear in the elf's eyes. "He's changed, messere. He's not the same man I married! He told me he loved me, and he'd left for my sake... and that he was going to take me away from all this, but... I'm scared. He frightens me!" She looked down at her teacup. "I swear, that's it. He hasn't told me anything else, except that he'd see me again."

Lise frowned, patting her on the arm. "I'm going to give you my address, Nyssa – Merrill can tell you how to get to me. If at any time you're troubled, please feel free to come to me. I'll just ask that you send word if Huon tries to contact you again."

Looking relieved, Nyssa stood, curtseying. "Thank you, messere! I will." She looked at Merrill. "Thank you, _lethallan_, for the tea, but I must get back to the shop."

When she'd left, Lise looked at Merrill. "I'll leave it to you two to work out, but it might be better if she stayed here with you, Merrill, until we find Huon."

"I'll talk to her about that this evening, Hawke. Are you sure you won't stay for lunch?"

* * *

><p><em><strong>Lethallan<strong> (leth-ah-LAHN): Casual reference used for someone with whom one is familiar. Lethallin is used for males, while lethallan is used for females. Akin to "cousin" or "clansman" since "lin" is the word for blood._


	32. Things Fall Apart

_Really, Feynriel wasn't supposed to stick around this long, but apparently he had his own ideas. I had to ask him a few times to back off, unless he wanted to take over and finish the story for me, but then it wouldn't be Orsino/Hawke, it'd be Feynriel/Merrill. Anyhow, rejoice, for I have my muse again! The last few chapters I am unhappy with, as I was feeling rather uninspired, but I finally am on a roll again so hopefully the next few chapters will be good. They'll still come slow, however, as you can tell what's coming up and I want to make sure it's as full and rounded as I can make it. I don't want to miss anything. Thanks for sticking with me, and I promise that no matter what it may seem like, there _will _be a happy ending for our lovely couple. Also, I still love to receive reviews!_

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><p><em>Ch. 32, in which things begin to go wrong.<em>

It was late evening a few days later when Wolf brought Hawke a note from Merrill. She motioned for the others to continue with the game – Feynriel had come to visit in addition to the usual group of Orsino, Fenris, and Varric and the five of them had been playing diamondback – while she read the letter, short as it was. Unfortunately, the content made her frown, and Orsino reached up to touch her cheek.

"Lise?"

She looked down, shaking her head. "Apparently Nyssa should have come home from work several hours ago but Merrill has not seen her yet; she says normally she would not worry, but with the situation as it is..." she trailed off.

He nodded as Varric looked up. "Are we going to go check on her, then?"

"Would anyone come with me? I don't want to drag you out for what I hope is a fool's errand, but-"

Feynriel spoke up. "But Huon is not one to be trifled with, if still has the items he stole from my master. I will go with you, Hawke." The others merely nodded, putting their card-hands down on the table, and she nodded with a faint smile. Within a few minutes, they were ready, and together they set out for Lowtown.

Merrill met them by the vhenadahl tree in the centre of the alienage; she was pacing with a worried look and Lise noticed for the first time that she had matured since the summer. Losing Marethari had been a blow for everyone, but Merrill seemed to have taken the lesson to heart and now, though she was still flighty and absent-minded at times, she had more focus and responsibility. She wondered if the Keeper had foreseen this, as well.

As they walked up, the elf looked relieved. "Hawke, I'm glad you came so quickly. Nyssa usually works until sun-down; she's been coming home easily in time for supper. I thought perhaps she was working late today, but when the stew was cold and she wasn't in yet, I thought you'd rather I warn you early than wait."

Lise nodded. "I'm glad you did, Merrill. Can you show us where she works?"

They made their way through the winding alleys to a little shop not far from where Feynriel's mother had lived. It was closed, as most such places were at that hour, but the lock was simple; Hawke was in the process of picking it when a quiet, cautious call from Feynriel caught her attention.

He was crouching next to the path, a little distance away from the door. When she leaned over, she saw what he was pointing at; several small, dark blots that could have been mud had it been wet, but the autumn rains were scarce this year. She winced. "Blood?"

Feynriel nodded. "It is. From the angle of the path to the door, it looks like he was hiding behind this crate, here-" he pointed "-and probably caught her unawares as she went to lock the door." As Lise bit her lip, he continued. "For all that I won't practice blood magic, the good thing about Tevinter teaching is that I still learn about it; there's a quick and easy spell that will allow you to... 'lull'... someone's mind provided you can get seven drops of their blood. It's not a complete domination, nor is it an enscorcellment, so it's hard to protect against. It's my conjecture that it's what happened here."

Merrill knelt beside them. "There's something I can cast to follow the trail – it's not blood magic _precisely_, but it does work off the same principles, I'd just be using _her_ blood, not mine. But... it's been months since I..." she trailed off, looking up. "Hawke?"

Lise narrowed her eyes, her lips thin. She nodded. "As much as I don't approve, I think we have to. After all, blood's already been spilt, and we don't have time to go home and get Rufus. If it will help us find her, we will do it."

Merrill closed her eyes, placing her hand over the bloodstains, and began to murmur. Fenris and Lise did not watch; Orsino and Feynriel observed with studious fascination, and Varric just shrugged. After a moment there was a dull red glow from beneath her hand and they could see tiny, faint spots light up along the path from the way they'd come.

She stood. "The spell only stretches for a few paces ahead of me, just enough for us to follow it. This way I can dismiss it once we're relatively sure we're where we need to go, without having to worry about it alerting anyone else."

Hawke nodded, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Good job, Merrill. Let's go."

They set off at a relatively quick pace, although Orsino and Feynriel trailed behind a bit, being the ones not used to Hawke's "warpath" speed. The trail led them back through alleys, past the central courtyard, and out of the alienage; once they were back into the Lowtown streets and Lise noticed that they were heading towards the eastern part of the slums, she frowned.

"If this is going to take us to that same abandoned factory in the foundry district I'm going to scream. What _is_ it about that place?"

Feynriel, sounding a bit out of breath, caught up. "It would actually make sense, if there's been blood magic practiced there before. There's always a residue of power that soaks into any place where blood has been spilt, especially if done ritually. Blood calls to blood, or so they say, and a blood mage will gravitate to places already primed for his or her usage. That might explain why Kirkwall is such a haven; the ground still remembers the depravity of its Tevinter overlords from the days of the Imperium's rule."

Lise shook her head. "I wish I'd known that; if I had, I would have burned the place down to the ground." She frowned again. "You know a lot about blood magic, Feynriel."

He grimaced, wryly. "Well, being as I live in a city full of blood mages, I want to know how to protect myself and I find it's easier to say no when you understand the dangers and can put up a reasonable argument as to why you don't want to do something." His eyes were clear, and she felt no deceit behind them; she merely nodded, and he looked at Merrill. "But, serah, you have power indeed. It's not many who can use blood spilt at another time, by another person, from another source. Most practicing blood mages can only use their own blood, and it must be fresh."

Merrill looked away, shrugging slightly. "I didn't know that, but… I don't really like to talk about it much, if that's all right. I don't exactly practice anymore."

Hawke caught his eye as Feynriel apologized and shook her head, mouthing, "I'll tell you later."

* * *

><p>The trail led them to the door of a building near the one Hawke despised. It was not locked, and she put her ear to the crack between door and frame to listen. Hearing nothing, she put the flats of her fingers to the edge to carefully slide it open; at that moment, however, a muffled shriek rang out and she shoved the door aside, running inside as soon as there was space.<p>

She and Fenris were the first two through; there was no one on the open warehouse floor but in the shadows it was not hard to see the crimson glow and oily black mist coming from a loft overhead. Moonlight pouring through broken wooden slats in the walls and ceiling made for a very eerie setting, and Hawke shuddered as they ran toward the ramp leading up.

The sight that met her eyes once they'd rounded the corner of a stack of mouldering hay bales made her grit her teeth in anger; Nyssa was floating in a cloud of oily black fog and swiriling red arcane energies that even _she_ could see, and she was no mage. Beside her, chanting, crouched an elf, shaved and tattooed in the Dalish style; his back was to them so she could see nothing more. Not wasting a moment she drew her throwing dagger and launched it at his back; it sank into his side, but she could tell that she'd missed his vital organs. Still, she squared her shoulders, stringing her bow as she cried out, "Let her _go!_"

He screamed a few words, possibly the last of his chant; as he whirled around to face them she saw that his eyes were already clouded with blood-fervour and he held a wicked and cruel-looking curved dagger of iron, black as night. He smiled, making a slashing motion with the blade towards Nyssa's general direction; she slumped to the ground, but then rose again, her back arching. When she stood her eyes glowed red and Lise could tell that she was possessed. Anger and shock took Hawke's breath away; in the time it took her to recompose herself Huon had put hand to his wife's cheek.

"So much better, my love," he murmured. "You were scared and weak, but now you'll be part of something greater, won't you?" He faced Lise, shaking his dagger at her with a cynical leer. "You won't take her away from me again!"

Lise took aim, her face contorted as she cried out, "You _monster_, she _loved_ you! How _could_ you?" Her arrow struck true, and Huon screamed; not because he was hurt but because she'd set her sights on Nyssa and the shaft instead sank deeply into the woman's shoulder, setting her reeling. Fenris took advantage of the blood mage's distraction, leaping upon him from behind; blade met bone with a sickening, wet crunch and Huon crumpled to the ground. When he died the glowing red light faded from Nyssa's eyes; Lise dropped to her side, feeling for her pulse, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Orsino knelt on the other side of the unconscious woman, and checked her vitals; Merrill gently pulled Hawke to the side so that she could join him. She pulled the arrow out and Orsino healed the wound; pressing glowing hands to Nyssa's head for a moment, she sighed in relief. "Thank the creators, she doesn't seem to be possessed any longer. It's good that you aimed for her, Hawke. The pain is likely why whatever he'd called up didn't fully manifest."

Hawke, meanwhile, was crying. Orsino, standing, moved to her side; he took her hand. "Lise?"

She put her hand to her eyes, trying to stop the tears; she knew she should be circumspect, but she was so weary and upset that she couldn't help it. "He _loved_ her, but he was going to kill her! How… how can that even _be_? Love should be sacred!" She looked up at Orsino; the pain in her eyes smote his heart and he wrapped his arms around her, ignoring Feynriel, who just gaped at them.

His smile was sad as he shook his head, kissing her hair. "You've only seen the best of it so far, _emma lath_. Love can be jealous, deceitful, deadly, and repugnant." He looked down at Nyssa. "Just know that she likely will not remember this, and that we've saved her life today."

Lise frowned, pushing him back slightly. "I'm sorry for falling apart. I _know_ things like this happen, but... I can't stand seeing it." She looked down at Nyssa, as Fenris knelt to pick up her unconscious body. "I can't- is it always like this? Is this what happens when two people are separated?" She looked at Orsino, who shook his head again.

"I don't know, Lise. I've tried not to think about it, but I _can_ tell you that I'd rather die alone than even entertain the idea of hurting you."

She shook her head, taking ahold of his robes as she looked down at the ground. "I trust you, Orsino, but… swear it. Swear to me that you'll never touch blood magic."

He wrapped his arms around her again. "You don't need my oath, but I will swear it anyhow. Even if I perhaps once thought that it might have practical applications, I've seen too much to allow me to keep that mindset. Someone else's blood magic once nearly caused me to lose you; no, Lise, it's an easy decision. I swear I will never touch it." Her only answer was a grateful smile as she closed her eyes, resting her cheek on his hand.

Feynriel flushed, looking slightly embarrassed at being an observer to their conversation; he covered it by going to Merrill and offering her his hand as she still knelt next to the place where Nyssa lay. Varric helped Fenris lift the unconscious elf, and Merrill allowed Feynriel to help her rise; he asked her a quiet question and they stood, talking, as Lise leaned over and pried the dagger from Huon's cold grasp.

It was not only black as night, but there was no shine to it whatsoever; the moonlight that fell on it did not illuminate, but instead seemed to absorb into the metal. It made her skin crawl to touch it, and she looked up at Orsino. "What can we do with this?"

He frowned, taking it gingerly. "There are rituals that can be used to cleanse it; if they do not work, we have a place in the tower where the templars lock such items away. I will see to it." Looking around, he found an old burlap sack and placed the knife inside, wrapping it so that he could carry it without contact.

She nodded, then looked to Feynriel, who was carrying on a halting conversation with Merrill; she seemed to be relaxing, slowly letting go of her worry and distraction. After a moment, Lise caught his eye and he looked to her. "Hawke?"

"I'm going to go back to the Gallows with Orsino, as this needs to be reported to Meredith. Varric will probably head home from here?" The dwarf nodded. "You can come with us as far as the gates to the docks, if you'd like?"

He thought for a moment, then looked from Merrill to Nyssa, still in Fenris' arms. "No need. If Fenris would like to accompany you, I can carry Nyssa back to Merrill's house. I'd like to continue the conversation we were having, and that way no one is inconvenienced." He looked at Orsino. "You have the dagger?" The First Enchanter nodded. "Please, destroy it if you can. I don't want to touch it or see it again."

Lise nodded, and after carefully handing Nyssa to Feynriel, Fenris joined them. She chuckled quietly as he rolled his eyes once the other two were out of sight, still talking quietly. "Well, I certainly didn't expect _that_."

He snorted. "Can you really trust the two of them together? They both know too much about blood magic, if you ask me."

From behind him, Varric chuckled. "Oh, I don't know. I think perhaps he might be good for Daisy."

Lise smiled. "And Merrill might be good for him – but Maker, we sound like a group of matchmakers!" She looked to Orsino. "Shall we go?"

* * *

><p>Fenris left them at the through-way where the path to Hightown intersected the path to the docks. When Lise and Orsino got to the Gallows, they found Cullen walking into the tower in front of them; she pulled him aside. "We found and had to dispose of your final missing mage, Huon. The body is in the foundry district, fifth warehouse from the entrance, on the right. There's a sliding door to mark it and I think it was once a farrier or stable."<p>

Cullen nodded. "I know the place, Hawke. I'll send out a team to secure it now. Are you going to tell Meredith?"

She nodded. "I'll need to have a few words with the First Enchanter and then I'll go report to the Knight-Commander."

He winced. "Good luck. She's had a bad day, I think. More reports of blood mages hiding in the ranks, though Maker knows what the truth _is_ anymore."

"I have a weapon Huon used here," Orsino said, as he held up the bundle. "It looks Tevinter in style; if he was there for a time it might explain why it took us so long to find him here. I'm going to try to cleanse it, but if that doesn't work I'll need you to take care of it."

The Knight-Captain nodded. "I will come by in a while to check; it might be better if I took charge of it even if you do succeed. Less… complications… in the ranks." He grimaced, and the others nodded.

Lise went with Orsino into his study long enough for a kiss and to say goodnight; she left him to set up wards for the dagger and made her way to the Knight-Commander's office. Meredith's call of 'Come in' was even more hassled than usual; Hawke steeled herself and went inside.

The suffocating feeling she'd felt when first meeting Meredith had been back for some time; it was worse, now, but she'd become at least somewhat inured to it as often as she'd had to visit. She cleared her throat.

"I just wanted to report that we were able to track your final errant apostate, Knight-Commander. He'd taken his wife hostage for blood rituals in a foundry in Lowtown, but we were able to rescue her and kill him. She sustained minimal injuries and is resting with a friend; when I'd left she was still unconscious." She made no mention of Nyssa's near-possession; Merrill and Feynriel would be able to make sure she _wasn't_ possessed, they didn't need a witch hunt in the alienage.

Meredith looked up from a report she'd been reading; the look of anger on her face staggered Lise. Cullen must have been right; perhaps that was the report he'd mentioned. Whatever it was, the templar was _not_ happy at the moment.

"Blood magic? _Again_! Maker preserve us – I expected it, but I hoped it would not play out. And now we have more reports of blood mages in the Circle! This is madness!" She stood, pacing angrily; Lise noticed uncomfortably that Meredith's sword was still sheathed to her back and she would almost be willing to swear that it was glowing faintly. "Is that where the First Enchanter was all night? I've looked for him, and _again_ he was out, later than he should be! We have a curfew for a reason!"

Hawke winced. "He was assisting us, yes. We would not have been able to keep the situation under control if he had not been there, messere. Even now he's got Huon's dagger and is attempting to cleanse it."

The templar whirled around. "You _left_ it with him? You left it in the possession of a _mage_?"

"It's the First Enchanter, messere, and Ser Cullen knows-"

Meredith cut Lise off, her eyes blazing. Her voice rose as she spoke. "_Enough!_ I have had _enough_ of this! This Circle is a breeding ground for apostates and maleficarum, and it's because we are not hard enough on them! We coddle them, allowing them little freedoms and privileges that no sane person should _give_ to one of their ilk! They need to be taught a lesson, and they need to be put in their place! Champion, you will do your duty tonight and find these blood mages-" here she thrust a sheaf of paper at Lise with scribbles and notes on it "-find them wherever in the Gallows they are hiding, whoever they are. I want them here by sunrise, or dead!"

Lise gaped, too floored by Meredith's sudden frenzy to know how to protest this insanity. "Messere, you cannot truly think that this is right!"

The Knight-Commander's eyes narrowed and she moved her hand towards the hilt of her sword, but then stayed it. "Fine. If you will not do your job then _I_ shall. Go home, Champion, and if I call for you, I will expect your aid. It would be in your best interest _not_ to visit Orsino on your way out; he and all other mages are hereby confined to their quarters in the Gallows. If you need to speak with him in the future, you will make an appointment with me and I shall mediate. The old order has not worked; we will have to put a new one into play."

The blood drained out of Lise's face and a cold, icy lump formed in her stomach; she found herself thrust out of the office without a chance to say more, and Meredith stood in the doorway to watch her leave, making sure she did not stop on her way out. Within ten minutes she found herself escorted to the boats with no way of contacting Orsino.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Emma lath: <strong>my love._

_As always, the characters belong to Bioware, I merely act as puppeteer._


	33. Rules and Rebellion

_Things begin to pick up; there will be more drama, unhappiness, and loss. I promise there will be _some_ happiness by the end (which is in sight), however! Also, apologies if Wolf's cockney accent is too atrocious. He was originally a nod to the leader of your urchin gang in Neverwinter Nights 2, but seems more like a Dickens character now._

* * *

><p><em>Ch. 32, featuring letters and resolutions.<em>

There was no sleep for Hawke that night. Varric came by to drop off a book, but stayed to talk things over once he'd heard the news; although she hid it well he could tell that Lise was close to frantic, and he was worried enough as it was. Eventually he convinced her to try to rest; he left, but not before having a private word with Bodahn asking him to keep an eye on her, make sure she didn't leave without one of her friends along, and if he couldn't keep her from leaving, to send a message to the Hanged Man.

Pre-dawn saw her back in the study, still in her nightclothes, writing frantically. She had a vague idea on how to _attempt_ to get a letter to Orsino, and she was certainly going to try it. It was not her finest letter, nor was it likely very coherent, but she was so worried about his safety that she didn't care. She hadn't even felt this distressed when she saw him fighting face-to-face with the contingent of qunari troops. When she was finished, she reached for the bell but then realized that the sun hadn't even risen; aside from the crackling of the fire and the soft whiffling of Rufus as he lay dreaming on the hearth, the manor was silent. Forcing herself to wait at least until dawn, she slipped upstairs and dressed hurriedly, wrapping herself in a thick cloak.

She stepped out the back door, her breath hanging in the frosty air, illuminated by the moon as it lay low on the horizon. Lise had already prepared her garden for winter – which was good, as she could smell snow in the air – but she barely looked around as she began to walk.

Her steps led her to the pond, and she paced the bank, her mind racing. No matter how she tried, she could not stop the worry; worry that this was the end, that she'd never see Orsino again except through bars and chains. Nyssa and Huon were still fresh in her mind, and this added fuel to the mental fires. She remembered her promise to Orsino, so many months ago, when they'd first admitted their love; she'd told him that she'd stand between him and anyone who wished to collar and chain him – but _how_? How could she?

Hawke was no fool, and she knew that this situation was not one which could linger long without something giving in one direction or another. Ideally, Meredith would calm down, once she was unable to find evidence of more "blood mage conspiracies" in the tower; ideally, the lockdown would end soon and everything could go back to normal. However, the precedent spoke otherwise. The Knight-Commander had not really been doing much "calming down" lately; she'd been getting more and more paranoid and Lise knew that if this continued for long there would be blood in the Gallows – whether in ritual or murder she could not predict. For all that opponents of the templars might accuse Orsino of being weak and of giving into oppressive policy, Lise knew otherwise; he was fiercely protective of his people and Meredith was dangerously close to pushing him into a corner from which he would turn and fight her back.

Lise sat down on the bench, her head in her hands. Her inner voice attempted to talk some sense into her panicked psyche. _I've got to get it together. I can't fall apart, not now. I don't know what's happening; perhaps Orsino or Cullen have been able to talk some sense into Meredith. Let me wait for some sort of reply, some information before I sally forth to free him from the oppressive chains of the Gallows. After all, if I lose my head now I won't be available when Orsino _does _need me. But Maker, I miss him. I saw him _yesterday_, and I miss him. The idea that I may never be able to as much as touch his hand again tears me to pieces; the thought that others have had to go through this before just makes it worse. I see how it ended up for Mharen and Emeric, for Nyssa and Huon. Mother and father were lucky; I think _our_ luck may have finally run out._

A voice startled her out of her reverie before she could start crying. She looked up; Wolf stood at the end of the bench, a worried look on his face. "Mistress 'Awke? Is everythin' all right?"

Lise gave a small smile. "Not really, Wolf. You remember the First Enchanter, don't you?"

"Master Orsino? 'Course I do. 'E's over here oftentimes enough, ain't he?" His look of concern deepened.

"Well, I need to get a letter to him, as soon as possible, but things have changed over in the Gallows. We're not allowed to go there anymore, and he's not allowed to come here, so you _can't_ get caught. Come inside with me, will you?"

He nodded, and followed her; she found that Bodahn was in the kitchen preparing breakfast. She sat Wolf down to eat what she knew she could not, and went into the study to retrieve her letter. She folded it as tightly as she could, keeping it small enough that Wolf could conceal it easily; going back into the kitchen she handed it to him.

"How well do you know Darktown?" He gave her a look that said, 'D'you really need to ask?' and she smiled faintly. "Just checking. I want you to try to find a particular tunnel; it should lead to a room in the Gallows, but I want you to be very, _very_ careful. If you even so much as _see_ a templar, turn back immediately – I don't want you getting into any kind of danger." She outlined the Darktown location of Anders' old mages' underground passageway, and soon enough, Wolf was done eating and ready to go.

"Give that letter to Orsino, and _no one else_. Wait for a response unless he tells you not to. If you have to destroy the letter, don't hesitate. It could get him or I into trouble, and I would rather have to write it again than risk it endangering you _or_ him. If anything happens and you are discovered, destroy the letter and if you can, find Knight-Captain Cullen. Don't tell him why I sent you, but he's a good man, and will more than likely see to it that you're let go without harm."

When she was finished, Wolf gave her a half-salute. "You got it, Mistress 'Awke. Just trust in me an' I'll be back afore you can even wonder where I went." He put his gloves on, straightened his scarf, and was out the kitchen door before she could say anything else.

Touched, Hawke watched him run down the road; she thought, not for the first time, that if things ever settled down she might try to adopt him, if he and Orsino approved of the plan. He was always available when they needed a runner, and she'd come to rely on him above any of the other children that came by the estate. He was a good, sturdy boy – going on ten or eleven – and if he got some education he'd be able to make much of himself. He seemed to have adopted them, already, and was always the first one to volunteer if she needed anything. She sighed; it was impossible to think about the subject while she was worried so much.

Bodahn walked up behind her. "Messere, you ate _nothing_ for breakfast. Can't I make something for you?"

Lise shook her head. "Thank you, Bodahn, but I couldn't eat even if I wanted to." At his deepening frown, she paused. "Actually, I think I _could_ drink some peppermint tea, if you would?"

His frown lessened, though only a bit. "Of course, messere! You go sit down in the study or the lounge and I'll bring it right to you!" She smiled, faintly; _Dear Bodahn_. She didn't know what she'd do without him or Wolf.

Following his advice, Lise went into the study; he brought the tea shortly after and it helped calm her down enough that she fell into a fitful sleep before the fire. She was awakened a few hours later by a rap at the door; if she'd dreamt, as she was sure she had, she did not remember it and the vague sense of floating dread and anxiety that lingered made her glad of it. A moment later Fenris entered the room.

He paused for a moment, a question in his eyes; taking one look at the dark circles under Hawke's eyes and the lines on her forehead he sat on the divan next to her, putting an arm around her shoulders. "Varric stopped by last night and told us what was going on. Did Meredith hurt you?"

She shook her head. "No; I'm sure that Meredith thinks I'm weak, but otherwise I'm still the Champion and I'm worried that she'll call on me to carry out orders that I can't countenance."

The elf snorted. "Then refuse."

"Of _course_ I will, Fen. You know that. My worry is for how much worse that will make things. If anything happens to the mages because of my rash actions, I'll never forgive myself."

Fenris rolled his eyes. "They can take care of themselves, I'm _sure_." Shaking his head, he checked himself. "Orsino's strong, Hawke. He'll be able to take care of himself. And sooner or later, things have to come to a head. You can't solve every conflict with diplomacy, as much as you may try – especially in Kirkwall. You should know that by now."

She sighed. "I _do_ know that, Fen. But do you blame me for wishing that I _could_?"

He looked at her for a long moment, shaking his head. "No, I don't." He was silent for another long moment, but then spoke again. "You know that whatever needs doing, I'm on your side, right? You've asked me to do a great many things I might not have approved of, but they were always the _right_ thing, in the end."

At this she started to cry, and he hugged her so that she could cry on his shoulder. They were still sitting that way when Merrill came walking in; she stopped in mid-step. "Oh. Dear. My goodness, what's wrong with Hawke?" Before Fenris could answer, she sat down by the fire, opposite the divan, and leaned forward. "Hawke, what's wrong? What's the matter?"

Lise looked up, wiping her tears on her sleeve. She told Merrill what had happened since they'd all parted ways the day before, and the Dalish elf frowned. "Well, I came to tell you that Nyssa woke up, and Orsino was right. She doesn't remember a bit of what happened after she left work yesterday. I've told her that Huon is gone; she just thinks he's gone back to Tevinter and I'm not really wanting to tell her otherwise."

Lise nodded, slowly, trying not to remember the night before. "That's probably for the best. Hopefully she'll come out of this unharmed, and can go back about her life again." The words made her wince, and she pushed them out of her mind. She looked around, helplessly. "Help me, you two. I _have_ to do something to keep my mind off things until Wolf gets back."

The two elves looked at one another, frowning; after a moment, Merrill stood. "Come on, Hawke. Nyssa was saying that she'd like to see you again, and thank you – I told her that she was safe to go home now, thanks to you. A walk will do you good."

As Lise looked uncertain, Fenris stood, taking her arm to pull her up as well. "That's right. We can go visit Orana afterwards, too. She's been busy helping Flora and the two of them were just saying that they wanted to see you."

She sighed, and nodded. "That sounds as good as anything, and the fresh air will help."

* * *

><p>The trip never happened, however. As the three of them were walking through the foyer the door flew open and Wolf rushed in; he skidded to a stop in front of Hawke and held out a bulky letter. She took it, hands trembling; still, she paused for a moment. "What happened, Wolf? You were gone so long I was afraid you'd been caught."<p>

He shook his head. "Well, I sorta was, an' Master Orsino never got your letter, but Ser Cullen says it's best that way." Lise frowned, looking alarmed, but he continued. "I went to that tunnel as you told me but it was boarded up an' when I was comin' back I ran into that mage, the one they call the Healer. 'E asked me where I was goin' in such a hurry, an' as I knew you was friends with 'im, I told 'im that you were sendin' me out because o' the goin' ons at the Gallows."

Lise knew he was talking about Anders and the blood drained from her face. Wolf frowned. "Did I do somethin' wrong?"

She shook her head, though she couldn't bring herself to respond. Instead, she asked, "What did he say?"

"Oh, he didn't say much, he just seemed surprised an' thoughtful, an' told me t' tell you that he was sure that things would be all right, soon enough."

The words did not give her the comfort that they apparently gave Wolf, but she tried her best to conceal it. "What happened, then? How did you get this?"

"I snuck up to the Gallows' edge, 'cos we knows a few extra ways in that I thought mebbe the templars didn't know-"

She gasped. "Wolf! I told you not to risk it!"

He shook his head. "I hadta, since you trusted me to get the letter where it needed t'go." She shook her head as he continued. "Well, I was sneakin' down a hallway when I ran into Ser Cullen. He looked startled, an' rushed me outside o' the gates before anyone could ask 'im anythin'. When we got out o' earshot, he told me 'I think I can guess why you're 'ere, Wolf. I'm sure 'Awke sent you to contact the First Enchanter, am I right?'"

"I just blinked at 'im, not about t'give it away, and he shook 'is head. 'Of course she asked you not t' say anything. It's best if Orsino does not get that letter; Meredith is keeping 'im under constant scrut'ny. But you saved me the trouble of looking for you, as I have a letter 'ere that the First Enchanter asked me smuggle out. Take it to 'Awke, as fast as you can. If you must return, find me! Tell your mistress that I'll do what I can, within reason, so long as she tries to resolve this peacefully.'"

Lise glanced down at the letter in her hands with a shocked expression on her face. Never had she thought that Cullen would assist them, for all that she knew he did not agree with Meredith's zealotry. She gave Wolf a faint smile, then leaned over and hugged him, which seemed to surprise him though he didn't pull away.

"Thank you, Wolf. You've done wonders. Go ask Bodahn to get you a hot drink and a snack, and I'll see if there's a reply I'll need to send with you." When she stood back up, he merely touched his cap, looking both pleased and embarrassed, and ran into the kitchen.

When she opened the letter a folded piece of parchment fell out; Fenris picked it up for her while she began to read. The writing, though hurried, was obviously Orsino's, and the simple fact that he was able to write to her in private and get it to Cullen eased her mind and heart immensely. His words, however, were grim.

"_Love, I must be brief. I know you are aware of what has happened; when Meredith came into my study last night, raging, she made sure to tell me that my days of 'privilege and ease' were over and that she'd sent you on your way. I, along with all other mages, have been confined to our chambers and a set of restrictions have been placed upon us that are as bad or worse than any in a real prison. I have enclosed one of the 'edicts' that we found posted on every door and in every hallway this morning, shortly after dawn._

_I know we have talked about circumspection before, and I know that we have been wont to say that 'if playing along with Meredith allows us to stay close, that is what we shall do.' However, that can no longer be. I am fearful for what may happen, and I know that I very well may be embarking on a path that will lead to our permanent separation, but I _cannot_ allow her to do this to the mages here. They look to me to protect them, and I will do that. I cannot allow her to do this merely for my own selfish hopes, and after all, she has separated us _now_. I do not see that there is any hope that she will relax her vigilance in the future. I do this, then, for us _and_ the mages here._

_If you can, meet me at the docks or at the Chantry once afternoon services are over; that is around four o'clock, I think. I debated for a long time and decided to approach Cullen, as we _need_ an ally; I did not tell him exactly of our relationship but I believe he has already suspected something, so he did not seem overly surprised that I wished to get a letter to you. He wants to see this dealt with in a diplomatic manner if at all possible, as do I, and I know you will feel the same. He also says that he thinks that you may be our best hope for diplomacy, and so he will help me get away from the Gallows this afternoon. I wish to speak with Elthina about this and I hope you will be able to help me make her see reason. She _must_ see reason. This cannot continue._

_Send Wolf with a note to Cullen; write only 'docks', 'Chantry', or 'no' depending on your answer. We cannot risk Meredith stopping this because the only option left after this is open rebellion in the ranks; none of us want that, and I would not be able to keep order though it._

_I love you. No matter what happens, I love you and I will forever love you. I will hold true to every oath I have given. Do not despair, _emma sa'lath. _We will be together some day, even if it is not in this life. Yours forever – Orsino"_

She was crying by the end, though she knew in her heart that everything he wrote was correct. She looked up and Fenris handed the parchment to her; the look on his face was one of disgust.

"I may not trust mages, and I certainly don't want to see them 'free'. But this..." he nodded at the sheet. "This is not simple 'oversight'. These resemble the 'rules' I lived by as a slave more than they do anything reasonable."

Frowning, Lise looked it over.

"_NEW REGULATIONS_

_1. All mages are to be confined to their rooms at all times unless in the presence of a templar._

_2. Mages may not talk to others without having first been told to speak._

_3. The dining hall is now closed. Mages will be served meals in their cells._

_4. All personal belongings will be removed by the templars by the end of the week. Belongings allowed are as follows: _

_-Each mage will be issued one robe and two sets of underclothes per season. Robes will __be gathered for laundry every other night before bed. _

_-Mages may have no more than three textbooks, which must be from a list approved by the Knight-Commander._

_-Staves and any other magical items or tools will be kept locked in the classrooms, and templars will keep the keys._

_-No other personal items, mementos, books, or tokens will be allowed._

_5. Mages will be allotted one bath every other day, to be taken in the presence of a tranquil of the same gender (if available.)_

_6. Classrooms are closed and classes cancelled until further notice._

_7. Mages may attend prayer sessions held nightly but may not speak unless participating in the Chant._

_These rules are in effect immediately and any mage caught breaking one of the aforementioned regulations will lose their next meal. Second infractions will result in a day's fast, and third infractions will result in being made tranquil. Any mage who wishes to be made tranquil otherwise will be allowed to do so, and should inform a templar. These rules do not apply to tranquilized mages._

_**Any mage caught speaking of blood magic or attempting to leave the Gallows will immediately be made tranquil with no prior infractions required.**_

_By the grace of Andraste and the Maker,_

_Signed by Knight-Commander Meredith"_

By the time she was done reading this, Hawke's hands were shaking with rage and her eyes were blazing as brightly as the Knight-Commander's had been the prior day. "This _cannot_ stand! By the Maker, if Elthina does not hear reason then we will move – I _will_ stop Meredith, no matter the cost."

* * *

><p><strong>emma sa'lath<strong> (_EHM-mah sah-lath_): my one love.

_All characters belong to Bioware, I just borrow them. With abandon._


	34. Confrontation at the Chantry

_A short chapter, but it was an appropriate place to break. Sorry about the lame title, but it's hard to be witty upon such a situation. Oh, Anders. How I wish I could change you!_

* * *

><p><em>Ch. 34, in which a travesty is committed and the Hawke becomes a Phoenix.<em>

Walking rapidly to the study, Hawke wrote one word on piece of parchment – "docks". She sealed it with her signet ring so that there would be no doubt as to the author, and calling for Wolf, she bade him carry it to Cullen as fast as he could. When he'd left, she turned to Fenris and Merrill, letting them know what Orsino had requested.

Fenris looked grim, but nodded. "I think we should ask Sebastian if he'll come along. I don't fancy him being involved in this, but he knows Elthina better than any of us."

Merrill, looking worried as well, piped up. "I'm coming too, Hawke, if you'll let me."

Lise frowned, but then nodded. "Honestly, the support can't hurt, though I don't think all of us should approach Elthina together. I _would_ like Sebastian to be there, Fenris – will you go fetch him? I will get Varric, and we can meet at the gate to the docks in an hour."

Leaving Merrill in the study, she went to her room to change into her Champion's armour. After she'd fetched her best bow, the two departed for Lowtown; she knew Varric would never forgive her if she left him out of _this_, and the dwarf _did_ have a silver tongue when he attempted to be serious. And she felt that they would need every ounce of persuasion they could muster for this fight.

* * *

><p>When Hawke got to the Hanged Man, she found Isabela and Varric in his upper room playing cards. He looked up quickly when Hawke approached and frowned at her armour. "Hawke, you're not thinking of storming the Gallows, are you? That's <em>really<em> not a good idea."

She shook her head, silently handing him Orsino's letter. He read it, frowning, then looked to the parchment; he handed them back with a low whistle. "Nice letter, Beautiful. I should borrow that last bit for my next story." Lise glared and he put up his hands in surrender. "All right, you've got me. That's a _lot_ more crazy than I expected out of Meredith and I don't blame you two for taking it to the Chantry."

"It's no crazier than I expected, though I should have seen it coming earlier. Her sword, Varric – it holds the idol."

Varric blanched. "_Bartrand's_ idol? Ancestors preserve us, Hawke! Why didn't you do something about it sooner?"

Lise grimaced. "I didn't know this would happen, Varric! Don't you remember? Fen and I were unaffected by the shard we found, and we conjectured that it only worked on dwarves!" She sighed. "That's neither here nor there. Even before she got the sword, Meredith was crazy – she just might have taken longer to get to this point. Will you come with me?"

"Of course, Hawke. Just let me get Bianca."

At this point, Isabela spoke up. "Sounds like you'll be needing all the support you can get, Hawke. I'll come along, too." She waved the letter, which she'd taken from Lise while she spoke with Varric, and handed it back.

Lise blinked. "Are you sure, Izzy? I didn't think you cared one way or another about the whole 'mage-templar' issue."

The pirate shrugged. "Mostly, I said that to get on Anders' nerves – he was such a _prig_ about the whole thing. But you know me – the only tying up I approve of is with rope and to my bedposts, so I guess this is something I can stand up for."

"Then by all means, please." Lise nodded, gratefully. Varric returned, his crossbow strapped to his back, and the four of them set out to meet Fenris and Sebastian at the docks.

* * *

><p>The others were waiting when they arrived; Fenris had fetched his greatsword, and Hawke was surprised to see that Sebastian was wearing his best armour. His face was grim. "Fenris told me the situation, Hawke. There's no way we can allow this to happen. Those mages may be under penance from the Maker, but they are still his children. The Knight-Commander abuses the faith placed in her by the Chantry and Andraste when she does this, and although I do not know if Elthina can step in, I will certainly speak to her with you. Mages must be regulated, but they should not be abused."<p>

Closing her eyes, Lise took a deep breath. "Thank you, Sebastian." She looked at her friends. "Anyone who comes with me risks angering the templars and possibly even the Chantry. I won't blame you if you want to leave now."

Fenris snorted. "Come on, Hawke. We're with you, we'll always be targets. We accepted that a long time ago."

She smiled faintly, as no one left. "Well, let's go meet Orsino and Cullen, then."

They'd turned to go down the stairs when there was a shout behind them. "Hawke? Hawke!" Lise whirled around to see Aveline running towards them.

"Maker, where are you all going? You can't be thinking of storming the Gallows!"

Lise shook her head. "I'm not, Aveline, but that's not because it doesn't need it." When the Guard-Captain frowned, Lise handed her the list of rules. "Have you seen this?"

Aveline read it, her lips tightening. "This is certainly wrong, Hawke, but you can't just go charging off-"

"I'm _not_ charging off. We're meeting Orsino and Cullen and then the group of us will go to the Chantry to speak with Elthina, to ask her to mediate."

Sighing a little in relief, Aveline nodded. "I suppose, with no Viscount, that's all that can be done. I'll go with you, Hawke, to make sure that everything's done in an orderly fashion. It doesn't seem like the guards have much sway in the city these days, but a little is better than none."

* * *

><p>They were at the docks in short order, and less than ten minutes later the cutter from the Gallows came alongside with Orsino and Cullen aboard. When the lovers saw one another the relief was palpable, but apart from lingering hands when Lise helped Orsino out of the boat, there was no other external sign of affectionate greeting. This was <em>not<em> the time to let their relationship interfere in such a delicate matter.

"Thank you for coming, Champion. When Wolf arrived with your response we sent him to the Grand Cleric to prepare her for our visit; she should be expecting us." He looked at the crowd behind her and smiled, though it was pale and rather forced. "I see that we have support, and for that I am grateful." They looked at one another for a moment, and she smiled, faintly, as well; then, nodding, she turned.

The group fell into line; Hawke led, with Cullen and Orsino immediately behind her. Everyone else followed, with Aveline taking the rear; they were crossing the Chantry courtyard when Meredith's voice rang out, echoing from the walls.

"_Halt! You will go no further!_"

Lise's blood immediately turned to ice, but she turned; catching Orsino's eye she could see that he was as surprised and alarmed as she was at the Knight-Commander's arrival. There was no time for discussion, however; Meredith was walking towards them quickly with one templar at her side. Hawke frowned, noting that Meredith normally never went anywhere without a retinue of at least two. She began to walk back towards the advancing templars, placing herself in front of Orsino; the rest of her group fell to either side and within moments the women were facing one another.

"_What_ is the meaning of this, Champion?" Meredith's voice was outraged.

Lise squared her shoulders. "It has come to my attention that there is a problem with the way things are being run in the Circle and I have been requested, as a mediator, to bring this problem to the Grand Cleric for resolution."

Meredith's face grew red at this. "You are _not_ to worry Her Grace with this matter! I forbid it!"

"You cannot forbid this, Meredith. Her Grace's position is higher than both yours and the First Enchanter's; it is her place to mediate in such a situation."

The templar clenched her fists. "I speak with the authority of the Grand Cleric _and_ the Viscount's office, and I say you will not do this!"

Hawke leaned forward, eyes filled with anger, though her stature as compared to Meredith's rendered this a little less effectual. "You speak on your _own_ authority alone, Knight-Commander! Stand aside, for we _will _see this end diplomatically – do you _want_ the Gallows to run red with blood?"

Meredith crossed her arms. "You cannot stop this, Champion. Things have gone too far." She looked at Cullen. "And one of my own templars, tainted by blood magic, his mind corrupted? I never would have believed it!"

Cullen looked shocked as the rest of the group murmured. "Knight-Commander, you cannot _do_ this! You _know_ that is false! I am here because I want a peaceful resolution to this situation, not because I have been _corrupted_!"

She sneered. "That's not what Ser Thrask tells me." She turned to her side, opposite her templar bodyguard, and frowned. "Where is Ser Thrask?" Looking back at Lise, she shrugged. "It is no matter. You speak of diplomacy where none is needed; I have made my decision and _no_ one has the right-"

"You speak of diplomacy where none will be found. There is no longer a diplomatic solution to this corrupt situation, and there _will_ no longer be one, for I have removed it."

A familiar voice rang out from behind Meredith and everyone turned; Lise knew before she saw him that the voice belonged to Anders, and her stomach turned. She was shocked when she saw his face. He no longer wore his mage robes of blue and gold; he was now in all black, and his skin was pale. There were dark circles under his eyes, which were already beginning to blaze with Justice's flames.

Before she could speak, however, Meredith had stepped up to him. "You – apostate! What is the meaning of this? What are you talking about?"

Anders gave a chilling smile. "Ser Thrask has been working with me, messere. You have seen the last of him, I am afraid."

At that moment Hawke realized what Anders meant. Orsino must have come to the same conclusion, as he cried out, "You _fool_, what do you think you've _done_?" at the same time that Lise turned, beginning to run to the Chantry. _If I can just make it in time to warn them-_

Fenris grabbed her arm, jerking her back so sharply that it was painful. "You can't get to them in time!" he hissed. And he was right.

With a roar like a thousand avalanches and a column of blood-red fire that reached the heavens, the Chantry shattered. The explosion was so strong it nearly knocked the group off their feet; there were perhaps five seconds of dead silence before the air filled with the screams of bystanders, onlookers, and other residents of Hightown. From the Chantry itself, however, there was no sound, and that was the worst of all. No one who had been trapped in the blast could have possibly survived; the Tevinter explosives had done their job far too well.

Sebastian collapsed to his knees, wailing Elthina's name; Hawke stood still for perhaps five seconds while the truth of the situation sank in, then was off, running back towards the group. The look on her face was one that even her friends shrank away from; she stopped in front of Anders and _slapped_ him. He rubbed his face, cringing before her gaze; his look, however, was one of sullen victory and she could not bear it. She pulled her dagger, holding it to his throat.

"You _murderer_! You _fool_!" He winced. As she stood there, looking at him, Fenris and the other templar came up behind him; the elf grabbed his hands and the templar bound them, leading Anders over to the side until Meredith had given her orders.

The Knight-Commander turned and surveyed the group. Her face was almost sad; she shook her head. "This is why we cannot allow mages to live, Champion. Better they should die immediately than be allowed to wreak such havoc." Straightening her shoulders, her voice rang out. "I hereby invoke the Rite of Annulment. All mages in Kirkwall shall be summarily executed; the Circle will be cleansed and we will start again, with new rules."

Orsino stepped up to her, his voice both angry and frantic. "You cannot do that, Meredith!" He gestured to Anders. "He is not a Circle mage! The Circle had nothing to do with this. How can you condemn innocents for a crime that none of them committed?" He raised his hand in a gesture of anger; she caught his wrist with a deathly-strong grip.

"Return to your Circle and prepare," she said, coldly. "Now."

A blaze sprung up in Lise's eyes and she felt the icy, sick feeling in her stomach turn to molten fury. Stepping forward, she took a hold of the Knight-Commander's hand with an even stronger grasp. Meredith spluttered as Hawke stepped between the two, her back to Orsino.

"What do you think you're doing, Champion?"

Lise leaned forward until her face was inches from Meredith's. She might be standing on tiptoes; she might be a foot or more shorter than the templar, but at that moment all assembled felt the coiled strength of Elisebeth Amell Hawke, Champion of Kirwkall. Even her friends felt a little afraid. She snarled.

"I am doing my _job_, 'Knight-Commander'." The title dripped with acid, sounding like an insult as it dropped from Hawke's lips. " I swore to uphold the welfare of Every. Person. In. Kirkwall." Meredith's fury grew with each pointed punctuation. "That does _not_ exclude the mages! I will _not_ let you murder them in your own delusional paranoia over something in which they had no hand!"

Meredith looked scornfully at Anders. "And you mean to tell me you and Orsino were not involved? I _know_ this man is well acquainted with you, Champion."

Lise turned her gaze upon Anders, who paled at its ferocity. "We were friends, once, until he crossed a line I could not accept. We have not been acquainted for quite some time, and he does not deserve to be called my friend." She turned back to the Knight-Commander. "This man is an apostate with no ties to the Kirkwall Circle. Trust me, he _will_ be dealt with. And if you make a single step towards a single mage who has not committed a crime, you will have to come through me."

Meredith sneered, though it was clear to all assembled that Lise had the upper hand. "Then you will die with them, _Champion_. A traitor and betrayer like the rest."

A slow, chilling smile spread across Hawke's face and she stepped back, crossing her arms.

"I will _not_ lose, Meredith. While you fight for yourself, I fight for the safety of each person whose life I have sworn to protect." Her eyes narrowed and Meredith found she could not look away. " You will _never _win, for I will fight until my blood stains the dust at my feet to protect the people I care for and the man that I love."

There was a collective gasp from those standing on the steps of the ruined Chantry at Lise's admission, and Meredith's eyes widened, then narrowed as Orsino, emboldened by Hawke's words, stepped up to stand beside his beloved. "Traitor! _Harlot_!" she hissed at Lise, who merely shrugged.

"Leave, Meredith. We will settle this upon the battlefield and we will see whose 'madness' the Maker truly favours."

* * *

><p><em>The characters belong to Bioware, I just borrow them.<em>


	35. Rites of Blood and Annulment

_*Tears.* I've been crying for a while after writing this. I may have hated what Bioware did to Anders, but I was too attached to him from Awakening to ever stop loving him, really. And so, now we get to the reveal; I know a lot of people have expressed concern at how the events in this chapter were going to play out. This is probably my biggest AU bend, so please, let me know what you think about it!_

* * *

><p><em>Ch. 35, in which Hawke loses an old friend, and an old decision comes back to confront her.<em>

The Knight-Commander did not try to respond; she merely looked at Hawke with eyes that promised death and turned on her heel. Her templar bodyguard followed her; Lise watched until they were out of sight before dropping to her knees, her face in her hands. Orsino sank down beside her, hands on her shoulders, and she looked up at him with stricken eyes. He shook his head. "Don't think about it right now, love. I don't know if it was a brave or stupid thing to admit everything to Meredith, but for better or for worse that means we can now fight as one." He helped her to her feet, and she turned to look at the smouldering remains of the Chantry.

"Aveline, you should go rally the guards. With the templars being called away for the Rite, the city needs you, and there might still be some survivors in the Chantry." She paused at a memory, her face going white for a moment. "Maker's breath – _Wolf_." She shook her head, blinking to stave off the tears.

Aveline looked stubborn for a moment, but then nodded. "You're right, as always, Hawke." She put her hands on Lise's shoulders. "If we don't see one another again, know that meeting you changed my life – sometimes to make more difficulties, but always for the better."

The two women embraced, and Lise stepped back. "I have to go by the estate on the way, but I won't have much time. Can you do me a personal favour and see to it that Bodahn and Sandal get packed and away to somewhere safe? I doubt my name will be much of an aid anymore in Kirkwall after this, and I don't want anyone else to suffer because of it."

Aveline nodded. "I promise it, Hawke."

Turning to survey the group, she shook her head. "You guys really shouldn't come with me. You know that even if Orsino and I somehow manage to miraculously survive this, we'll be exiles." There were head-shakes and frowns all around, and she gave a small smile. "Varric? You'll be cut off from your target audience."

Varric gave her a look of disgust. "Oh, come on, Beautiful. How on earth could I be satisfied if I kept my 'target audience' but missed out on the greatest story of my life? And you need someone to take care of you. Bianca'd never forgive me if I left a damsel in distress. Besides – I'm in the merchant's guild. They'll forgive me soon enough, I'm worth too much."

She gave another faint smile and looked up, then blinked as she noticed that Cullen was still with them. "Knight-Captain? Aren't you-?"

He shook his head. "Even if I went back Meredith would not have me, and I cannot agree with this turn of events. I may not believe in freedom for mages, but I can't allow Meredith to punish innocents. While you need it, you have my blade, Champion."

She bowed her head. "Thank you, Cullen. That means more to me than you know. Can you go now to warn the mages? We'll need a little time here before we're ready to go." He nodded, moving quickly off; Lise looked at the others, but everyone met her eyes with the same determination: to stay. Sighing, she turned. "Sebastian-"

He shook his head. "Don't even try it, Hawke. Not after what just happened."

She frowned. "You can't do this! You have the throne of Starkhaven to think of – and Flora! In fact…" she turned to look at Fenris. "You both have families. I can't ask this of you."

Fenris shook his head. "I love Orana, but this _is_ to protect her. Even if I left now, if Meredith wins, this whole city will become a prison."

Sebastian's lips were thin with anger and pain, but he looked at Fenris with a thoughtful expression. "All right, Hawke, you have a point. I _can't_ abandon my duties as prince. But you'll need a way to escape once this is over, and Flora and Orana need to get to safety. I'll go fetch the both of them and let them get their things, and we'll meet you by ship at the far side of the Gallows." Lise nodded gratefully – it was a good plan. He put his hand on her shoulder. "That means you have to win, Hawke. I don't doubt that you will, but I'll never forgive you if you don't." She smiled faintly, and he turned to look at Anders. "And what will you do with this _trash_? He has to pay for what he did – what he did to Elthina."

The look on Sebastian's face was agonized; Hawke knew the Grand Cleric had been a second mother to him. She winced. She'd been trying not to think of Anders; every time she did she wanted to be sick, and her heart twisted in her breast. She walked slowly towards him, though he would not meet her eyes; dropping to one knee she whispered, "Anders?" in a voice which hinted that tears were not far behind.

Anders looked up at her, and the expression in his eyes started her crying. It was agonized, it was regretful, it was pained and sorrowful. "I'm so _sorry_, Hawke."

She shook her head. "Sorry can't cover it, Anders. Not this time."

"I – know. I know I need to pay for what I did. But now that the vengeance is faded, I can't… I can't…"

"You _murdered_ all those people, Anders. And now hundreds more might die because of you."

"I know."

"I _trusted_ you until that day when you lied to me. But even then I hoped that our former friendship might have at least given you some pause."

"It – did. You might not believe me, but it did. But in the end, I couldn't stop it, Hawke. I can't stop Justice. He's more of me than I am, anymore."

Lise nodded, the tears streaming down her face. "I know, Anders. I don't want to do this, but…" She trailed off, and he nodded, swallowing hard.

"Please, Lise. I don't want to be like this anymore. I don't want to do this anymore."

Leaning forward, she put her arms around his shoulders, hugging him closely. For all that she'd hated him over the past few months, she still loved him as a friend underneath it all. In a rough voice, she murmured, "I wish I'd met you before Justice did."

He choked out, "I do, too, Lise. _Maker_, I do too."

Fenris had come to stand behind him, and she could see that he was glowing, faintly. She shook her head at him, still holding Anders tightly, and pulled her dagger from her hip. She whispered again, "I'm sorry, Anders. Good-bye," and with the last word, plunged the blade into his heart.

She felt him stiffen, and was fervently glad she could not see his face; the feel of bone against her blade and the hot wetness of his blood on her hand already turned her stomach so that she could barely breathe. When she felt his last gasp, she slowly stood; she was crying so hard that she could barely see, and when Orsino put his arms gently around her she turned to bawl against his shoulder.

She cried for a minute or two, but then forced herself to stop. _Mourn later, when we've secured time in which to grieve. _Pulling away from Orsino, she wiped her eyes, then turned to Aveline. "Will you… do something with him? I don't want to just leave him here." The Guard-Captain nodded, and Lise turned away. "Let's go."

* * *

><p>As the group walked off, she noticed for the first time that Orsino was weaponless and she blinked. "Orsino? Where's your staff?"<p>

He shook his head. "We were in too much of a hurry to leave, and Cullen was afraid that any delay might alert Meredith." Giving a faint smile, he shrugged. "In fact, we sent Thrask to distract her so that we could slip away. No one knew he was working with Anders."

"Anders found out about this whole thing because he ran into Wolf as I was trying to get a letter to you." She choked on the boy's name, and Orsino put a hand on her shoulder. "Anders wouldn't have had the materials if I hadn't helped him, either. So in a way, this is my fault, too."

He shook his head. "We can't play the blame game, love. Not now. We have a bit of time before Meredith is able to mobilize all her templars, but we should still move as quickly as we can."

Lise nodded, taking a deep breath. Looking up, she noticed that they were at the Hawke estate; she paused, nodding to Sebastian, who turned to go uptown. She put her hand on the door. "We need to hurry, but I also need to fetch something inside. Wait for me?" There were nods all around and she disappeared inside.

It was not even ten minutes later when the door opened again and Hawke emerged, holding her father's golden staff. She handed it to Orsino. "Here. It might not handle as well as yours, but-"

He nodded, taking it. She'd explained its history to him when Anders had returned it, and he was touched that she'd given it to him now. "It will work wonders, love. Thank you." He then noticed that she held something else, and raised and eyebrow. "What's that?"

She held it up, where it glittered in the sunlight – it was the lyrium shard they'd locked away so many months ago, and then forgotten. "I was telling Bodahn that he and Sandal would need to pack anything they needed to be ready for Aveline when Sandal came running up to tug on my tunic. When I looked down, he held this up. 'Boom!' was all he'd say, with a smile; I don't know how it will help, but he seems to know something we don't, so I brought it along."

Orsino nodded. "Better to have it and not need it than need it and wish we had it."

* * *

><p>At this point, the group consisted of Hawke and Orsino, Fenris, Merrill, Varric, and Isabela. It was good that there were so many of them; they met templar resistance in several places before they made it to the docks. They had to fight the templar guard; Isabela had the ship ready to go in record time, however, and they made it to the Gallows even though a thick fog was rolling in.<p>

"Why does the weather always have to do this? Maker, you'd think we were in a bad adventure story." As Hawke spoke, Varric snorted from behind her, but it was evident that the banter was merely to keep the tension at bay, keep them all from dwelling on tragedy.

After docking, they ran into the courtyard; it was eerily silent and although they could hear sound in the distance, towards the templar barracks, it was obvious that nothing had happened yet. The group ran into the tower, past the offices and into the main room; the sight that met their eyes was nothing that any of them had expected.

Mages lay dead all around them. There had to be at least twenty-five bodies; the walls and floors were covered in blood, and in the centre of the carnage was Cullen, fighting off a mage – Grace, one of the Starkhaven apostates Lise had remanded to the Circle years before. "What are you _doing_?" Lise shrieked, and both turned in surprise. As the mage paused, Cullen retreated; he looked around and seemed to realize how the situation appeared, because he shook his head.

"It wasn't me, Hawke! We've been betrayed by this-"

Grace cut him off with a mad laugh. "By this maleficar? Oh you stupid, witless templar." Lise saw with a sickening realization that the mage hadn't been fighting with her staff, she'd been fighting with a dagger – a cruel, curved dagger of iron, black as night. She stepped forward, but she'd gone no more than a single pace when Grace turned with a savage look.

"You! Do you know how long I've plotted my revenge on you? Thanks to you, I've lived for three agonizing, _tortured_ years in this pit of hate and despair! Oh Decimus – how right he was! There's no way mages can live with others. We're better than all of you, and out of fear, you hound and hunt us! But now I'll have mine, my vengeance. I've watched you, '_Champion'_. I've watched your every movement, and you have no _idea_ how much you've aided me." She raised her other hand, which held a chillingly-familiar journal. "You have no idea how much this has taught me. You've given me your own death, Hawke. But first-"

She gestured with the dagger towards Orsino, who began to choke. The amount of power that began to rise off the blood-drenched corpses strewn about was so thick that Lise could barely breathe. "I've seen you and him – watched you two. How hypocritical you are! But as you took my beloved from me, so shall I take yours – and you shall see him suffer, see him dance before he dies!" She began to laugh as Orsino continued to choke, unable to move. Lise started to rush to his side, but the moment she moved the maleficar twisted the dagger and Orsino's whole body jerked.

Grace was so focused on the two in front of her, however, that she failed to notice Fenris, who'd run to aid Cullen when they'd first come in. Her back was towards him, and that's why she did not see him leap forward, blade held high. She screamed as he landed on her, and staggered back as the dagger fell to the floor, hand still wrapped around it; he'd cleaved her wrist in twain. The minute the dagger dropped Orsino fell to his knees, gasping for air; Lise threw herself down at his side.

Before Fenris could turn and finish Grace off, however, she drove him off with a fireball; it did not hurt him but it forced him to fall back. "Fine! If you are all that eager to die, then so be it!" She gestured; lines which Lise had not seen, traced through the blood, glowed and Grace slowly rose into the air as the dead bodies began to rise up, drawn to her. There was a massive, soundless burst of light and when their eyes cleared Grace was no longer standing before them, not as Grace. Instead, a huge monster, a creature out of nightmare, lumbered forward; it was a giant mass of flesh and skeleton with its multitude of limbs flailing as it shrieked at them, misshapen eyes glowing with the red light of blood magic.

"_Maker preserve us,_" Orsino whispered, closing his eyes. "That's something that Quentin wrote of in his diary – he called it a Harvester."

As he said this, Fenris and Cullen were leaping out to meet it; Lise shook her head. "Explain later, unless you know how to kill it?"

He frowned. "Fire?" She nodded, holding her bow towards him, arrow already nocked. He waved a hand, lighting the head; on the other side, Varric had Merrill do the same. Lise took a deep breath, nodding to Orsino; they both then stood, turning, and began to attack in unison.

It was a hideous fight. The thing had no weak spots; it was a lumbering wall of flesh and terror and for all that Fenris and Cullen attacked it, it was taking wounds very slowly. Arrows and bolts only stuck because of the flames; Orsino's fireballs helped but Merrill's were weak, as her specialty was nature and she had never been good at elemental control.

_Meredith will have her work done for her, here, by a blood mage. Is that really how this is going to end? It's too ironic! How can these mages _continue _this when they see what it leads to?_ Lise fell back for a moment to wipe the sweat from her eyes; there was a lull as the beast managed to shove Cullen forward, against the wall, and out of the corner of her eye Hawke saw Merrill dart forward. She cried out, "_Merrill, what are you _doing?" just as she saw her bend over to pick up the dagger that Grace had dropped.

Before anyone had a chance to react, the elf ran towards the harvester, chanting something in elven; the blood on the walls and floors glowed again as she _thrust_ the dagger into the creature's side. It shrieked as her chanting became louder, and with a last yell she twisted the blade; the glowing blood flared – Lise swore that she saw it sucked into the dagger – and the harvester screamed in pain just before it exploded in a grisly fountain of blood and gore.

There was a second of silence as everyone paused; then there was a collective gasp of relief, shoulders slumping as they reconvened in an alcove away from the worst of the carnage. Merrill joined them last, and she held up the smoking remnants of the dagger – just the hilt remained. She gave a weak smile. "Reverse blood magic, I suppose. I just took what power remained and overloaded the creature."

Lise shook her head, looking amazed and relieved. She hugged Merrill, ignoring the fact that everyone was rather uncomfortably messy at the moment. "You're a miracle, Merrill." Everyone else nodded, and the elf looked embarrassed and a bit pleased.

Turning to Cullen, Hawke saw that Fenris was helping him bind a wound on his arm. "What _happened_, Cullen?"

He shook his head, wincing. "I got to the tower and there was already a group of mages assembled; perhaps thirty of them." He motioned to the few bodies that were left. "Grace was in front; she told me that they knew what had happened and that they would take care of it. It seemed strange that she would know already, but I thought perhaps that she just had a touch of foresight; instead, her demon must have communicated the situation to her."

"Trusting her, like the fool I was, I went upstairs to check for the other mages; everyone else was hiding, and I figured that was for the best. When I came back, Grace was the only one alive, and she turned on me; you came in shortly after and you know the rest." He wiped his mouth. "I don't know now how we can do this. How can we protect these mages if this is how they repay our care? They _are_ blood mages!"

"That's not true!" Hawke shook her head. "Some of them are, or were. This must have rooted them out. And Meredith has lost her mind – that sword is controlling her paranoia – and I _cannot_ let her kill innocents. Even if no mages were left in the tower, I would be honour-bound to stop her, for she threatens all of Kirkwall in her insanity."

She turned to the rest of the group. "This is it. There's no more preparation we can do here; Meredith will be along any moment now. Let us go to meet her."

* * *

><p><em>The characters belong to Bioware, I merely torment them.<em>


	36. The End of Corruption

_And so it ends. Don't leave just yet - I'll post once more, as I know we'll want an epilogue, a happily-ever-after. But this is the end of Elisebeth Hawke's version of Dragon Age II. I hope you've enjoyed the ride and I hope no one minds the AU twists. The next chapter, however, will be pure fluff, so don't say I didn't warn you! :)_

* * *

><p><em>Ch. 36 - a last stand, and freedom - a farewell to Kirkwall.<em>

They had just left the central room when Varric stepped up beside Hawke and Orsino. "I've been thinking, Beautiful."

She gave a strained smile. "That's usually a dangerous statement, Varric."

"Ha ha, very funny. But really. While I think it would be a great story for us all to go down as martyrs, I wouldn't be able to _tell _it so I'm kind of advocating a swift win outside." There were a few murmurs of nervous laughter. "And while we'll all more than likely be unwelcome guests at most high-society parties for the next two or twelve years, the only person that has a particular beef against _you_-" he pointed at Lise "-is Meredith. Unless there's more crazy lingering somewhere that we haven't caught." He looked back to where Grace had been.

Lise shrugged. "And we plan on dealing with Meredith."

"Right. Which will leave _you_ all fine and dandy. But the _he_-" the dwarf tapped Orsino on the arm "-is going to still be a problem for any templars out there. They may not feel the same way about it all that our dear idol-worshipper does, but it's still their job to keep him under lock and key, isn't it? Especially since he's a bit more... high profile... than your average mage."

She shook her head. "There's no way around it. Even if we put him in a jester costume, people would recognize-"

Orsino, who'd been looking thoughtful, put a hand on her shoulder. "That's not necessarily true. With all of the commotion, it's easier to 'hide in plain sight' than you may think. Especially if I'm _not_ in 'First Enchanter' robes with my staff. We've got another mage with us; I might be able to fit in." He smiled faintly. "I'm both an elf and a mage. Most templars never see past either, because they've never been taught to."

Lise looked back at Cullen, who was talking in low tones to Fenris. She shrugged, then sighed. "I don't see how it'll work, but it's worth a try. I'll just have to trust that Cullen will let it pass."

They stopped at Orsino's office and left Varric to explain the pause while Lise and Orsino slipped inside. He went to his rooms while she leaned against the door, eyes closed. She felt so tired, and the brief lull was keying her already-highly-strung nerves up even higher. Not moving, not _doing_ just made her more aware of the odds they actually faced. _An entire city's worth of templars – there is no way we can win at this._

She started when she felt a touch on her cheek; opening her eyes she saw that Orsino was standing in front of her. He had changed into a tunic and trousers; he held a hood but had not yet donned it. Hand still on her cheek, he gave her a soft smile. "Don't despair, love. Whether we win or lose today, we will live or die together – and to me, that is worth a hundred years of this uncertain half-freedom that we've had." She nodded, and he slid his hand up to the back of her neck. "There's so much I should tell you, should thank you for, but we don't have the time and I don't have the words. This is all I _can_ do, for now." He leaned forward and kissed her.

She was smiling, weakly, when he pulled away. "We'll have to win, then, so that you can find the time and the words." He nodded, putting on his hood, and the two of them rejoined the others outside.

* * *

><p>The group stepped into the courtyard to find that Meredith had her back to them and was giving orders to a group of perhaps fifty templars. Lise blinked; she knew that the barracks held twice that many, at least – there were more templars than there were guards in the city because the Knight-Commander had been desperately building her forces since the qunari attacks.<p>

Cullen stepped up beside her. "Not all of the templars agreed with Meredith's new rules. There's a good chance that these are all she could get to follow her."

Hawke gave him a faint smile. "Fifty against seven is still a pretty heavy set of odds."

He shook his head. "I have an idea." He walked forward and the templar Meredith was speaking to nodded over her shoulder. She whirled around, but before she could speak, Cullen raised his voice.

"Templars – I do not know what you have been told, but the attack today upon the Chantry was the work of a Ferelden apostate, a man who has never once set foot inside the Kirkwall Circle of Magi. That man has been judged and sentenced, and even now he stands before Andraste and the Maker to receive his punishment. I know that many of you have wondered at the atmosphere in the Gallows lately, and many of you have spoken to me, in private, about your discomfort over the stance we have been ordered to take. The mages inside are blameless of the crime they have been accused of, and we cannot abuse our position in this way!" At these words, many of the assembled templars murmured to one another, looking uncomfortable.

Meredith gasped. "You _dare_!" She whirled to the ranks, lifting her sword, which was pulsing with a blood-red glow. "Do not listen to the poisoned words of blood mages and their thralls! We do the Maker's work today, and we will never be safe until we have cleansed this city – you will stand with me, or die against me!" The murmuring grew louder, but the assembled group looked more uncomfortable than reassured. Only the closest five or ten – Meredith's cronies – jeered at Cullen and Hawke. The Knight-Commander turned back to the rebels, sneering at Lise. "I see that Orsino no longer stands with you – did he already fall to blood magic?"

Lise gritted her teeth but refused to let Meredith bait her. She instead turned her attention to the uncertain templars. "'And we shall stand together, forswearing the tools and trappings of magic. Our defenses shall be first and last against those who deny the Maker, and in everything we will do his bidding and that of his bride, Andraste.' You swore this when you entered the ranks, Meredith. Do you try to say that your status allows you to break such an oath, given to the Grand Cleric herself, and carry such a weapon? Especially one that you've allowed to control your mind!" There was a collective gasp, and Meredith's face turned scarlet, but Lise continued before she could speak. "_My_ oath is to Kirkwall, to save the citizens from any danger, within or without her walls, and I _cannot_ let you continue. I have no complaints with those who follow you, for I know they do so out of loyalty, but I say to them now – stand away. I will not ask you to aid us against her, but I cannot let you keep me from my sworn duty. You deny the Maker when you threaten his children, Meredith, and so you shall answer to him."

By this time the ranks had broken and more than half of the crowd was backing away. The Knight-Commander, enraged, thrust her sword towards the sky and crimson light poured over her. This was the last straw for most of her templars, who fell back, forming a circle around the courtyard. Lise could hear the words, "possession" and "enthralled" in their murmurs. When the light cleared, Meredith's eyes were glowing red. "Craven fools! You have all been tainted, and you shall all _die_!"

The few who still followed her – now just those who were sick or twisted enough to revel in the oppression of late – charged Hawke and her companions. Lise, clashing with Ser Karras, found herself glad that none of the other templars had joined her side. It would make things harder for her group, but she did not want to force them to make that choice. She saw Isabela run behind Karras, out of the corner of her eye, and she redoubled her efforts to distract him, though she was having enough difficulty fending his longsword off with her hunting dagger. He forced her back; she stumbled against one of the pillars and he raised his sword with a look of savage glee; the blow never fell, however, as he gasped, then collapsed, the pirate's dagger sticking out from the neck of his full-plate.

Isabela grinned at Lise, then gave her a hand to help pull her to her feet. "I haven't had this much fun in years!"

Lise shook her head, smiling faintly. "You're incorrigible, Izzy." She scanned the courtyard; Fenris was leaping over a downed templar to charge at one that had Merrill cornered, and Varric and Cullen seemed to be fairing well against their respective foes. As her eyes sought Orsino, she saw him fell a group of three with a fireball. She turned, looking for their real enemy, and found that Meredith had fallen back to the stairs, where she knelt, praying. She held her sword out, blade down, grasping the handle as if offering it in fealty, though Lise doubted the Maker was the one who was granting her petitions. Hawke took off at a run, at the same time that Orsino began to approach from the opposite direction; Meredith stood just as they both reached the stairs.

The woman was barely recognizable any longer as the Knight-Commander. Her entire body had filled with the brilliant crimson light, and Hawke could feel the corruption and the sense of _wrong_ as soon as she approached. Orsino ran up beside her, and she saw Meredith smile in unholy glee. "So you survived after all, Orsino. I will be glad to kill you _and_ the Champion myself!"

She raised her sword towards the sky and Orsino managed to throw up an arcane circle around himself and Lise just in time to deflect the pulse of crimson energy that exploded from the Knight-Commander, though the shield dissolved soon after. Orsino paled. "It's corrupted her templar abilities, Lise. Be careful!" Hawke's dagger met the sword as it arced towards them, but the respite was cut short as it shattered beneath the lyrium blade.

Lise swore, shoving Orsino to the side as she dove out of the way. Meredith laughed – a shrill, mad laugh – and raised her sword again. Lise saw that what she first assumed was the movement of fog out of the corner of her eye was actually the slow, metallic stirring of the aurum sculptures of the courtyard as the crimson energy brought them to life. She gasped, looking at Orsino, who paled even further. One of the large, winged statues stepped down from the balcony above their heads and they barely managed to roll out of the way. Hawke staggered to her feet and reached for her throwing dagger; she knew that her bow was of no use in such close quarters. She could not damage the statues, but perhaps she could catch Meredith.

Instead, her hand brushed the lyrium shard that Sandal had given her earlier. It was warm to the touch, and she brought it out, a wild idea forming in her mind. She kicked the leg of the statue so that it turned to face her, although as it had three faces she could only hope that she had its attention. It raised one of its weapons and she braced herself; waiting until the very last second she pulled back and the massive blade embedded itself in the steps. As the statue haltingly jerked at the weapon, trying to free itself, Lise leapt onto its arms, using the motion to propel herself up until she had climbed the metal wings.

She heard Orsino shouting, but forced herself to ignore him; as the statue broke free she used the momentum to launch herself towards Meredith, bringing the shard up. When she could be sure of the range she threw it, as hard as she could; it flew true and as it hit the Knight-Commander there was a explosion of light nearly as strong as the one that had destroyed the Chantry earlier that day. It was accompanied by an agonizing shriek that was an exact echo of the one they'd heard the day Sandal had purged the shard, though this one was a thousand times louder.

The blast threw Hawke down the steps and into the courtyard; she landed hard on her back and the force of the impact was such that she could only lay, gasping for breath, for several minutes while her eyes and ears recovered. When she could finally sit up, she saw her friends picking themselves up as well; all of the enemy templars were dead. With a start of relief she saw Orsino stand up, slowly; he'd been thrown back as well, but did not seem to be hurt.

When her eyes sought Meredith, however, she gasped. The Knight-Commander was no longer present; there was, instead, a roughly human-shaped statute on the steps where she'd stood. It looked as if templar armour had been fused to a statue of pure lyrium, which stood in battle stance, raising a sword to the sky. Cullen slowly walked up to examine it; Lise joined Orsino at the base of the stairs, and he turned to them, shaking his head. "She is gone – let it end, here." He turned away, facing some of the other templars who had slowly come up to join him. "The rebellion has been quelled and the battle is over. Ser Keran?"

The templar stepped forward. "Knight-Captain?"

"Take a group of templars who are not wounded and go into the tower. See to the safety of the mages within and tell them that while the rules have been lifted, they will still need to remain in their quarters until the perimeters have been secured and we have cleaned the courtyard and lower levels of the tower." Keran saluted and moved off.

Hawke and the rest of her group had drawn back, taking the opportunity in the confusion to move into the shadows. The fewer templars who noticed them now, the better. She still waited, however, to see if Cullen would seek them out, and he did. His face was heavily lined, and he looked weary.

"I am relieved to see that Keran accepted my orders; I was afraid that after Meredith's words they would no longer follow me. They may not follow for long, but I hope this will last at least until we have received reinforcements. I must send word to the Divine of the goings-on today; I would almost wish that you could stay and help us rebuild, Hawke – you're the only person I can see who could take the Viscount's seat and enforce order on this city, but I know it's impossible."

Lise shook her head. "It would never work – not after I helped destroy the Knight-Commander. Meet with the Guard-Captain. Aveline is brilliant and for too long the guards and templars have been at odds with one another. There are enough in both groups to keep order in the city temporarily; Starkhaven will send aid, I think, and you can put the nobles to a vote for Viscount soon. They've been ready for years, and the only reason it hasn't been done is because of Meredith."

He nodded, and then gave her and Orsino a long look. "If you will excuse me, I have a report to write which needs to be sent to Orlais without delay."

She raised an eyebrow. "And what, exactly, is the report going to say?"

He shrugged, looking a little uncomfortable. "That the Knight-Commander, First Enchanter, and Champion fell in battle, protecting the Circle and city from demonic forces. Rumours of Meredith's excesses have already reached far, and the templars here only know barest facts of what happened; I doubt any of them will be able to agree on what they saw." He frowned, but Lise nodded, relieved.

"Thank you, Cullen. You are more generous than I would ask."

He nodded, smiling faintly. "Maker watch over you, Hawke."

* * *

><p>Hawke and Orsino turned away, and their companions followed. As the group rounded the front of the Gallows, she saw a dark outline in the fog ahead; as they came closer the shape resolved itself into a fair-sized ship with figures standing at the bow. One of them gave a glad cry and Lise recognized Orana's voice; there was a splash as a gangplank was lowered to the shore and Fenris ran past Hawke and up it to meet his wife.<p>

The rest of the group climbed wearily aboard; Izzy ran immediately off to explore, but Sebastian came to meet Lise and Orsino.

"Thank the Maker you made it, Hawke! We could hear the battle and shouting; ever since we heard some sort of explosion followed by silence, we've been worried to death."

Lise shook her head. "Meredith is gone, and the templars have begun to regain control of the Gallows. It's a long story, though." She raised a hand to push her hair from her face and Flora came forward, giving Sebastian a look of reproach.

"Let them rest, dear. We can get the details later; _you_ need to make sure we get on our way now, quickly – or else that pirate woman will have taken charge of your ship!"

There were weak laughs, as Sebastian swore and walked away quickly; Flora put a hand on Lise's shoulder and turned to lead her below. "We can at the least give you all baths, food, and clean clothes. In fact-"

She was interrupted by a cry of "Mistress 'Awke!" Lise's head shot up in time to see Wolf barrelling towards her; he wrapped his arms around her waist and she hugged him back, laughing in delighted surprise.

"Wolf? Thank the Maker – but what happened? The last thing I heard, you'd gone to speak with the Grand Cleric, and I thought you'd gotten caught in the Chantry blast!"

"Naw, you couldn't catch me like that! I took Master Orsino's note, sure, but everyone seemed so worried that I didn't figure it'd be best for me t'stick around. I went by Lirene's t'see Jemmy, and by the time I left I was feelin' 'ungry so I went back 'ome. I didn't know nothin'd 'appened until I walked inside an' saw that guard friend o' yours, Mistress Aveline, runnin' around all worried-like." Lise hugged him again, and he grinned up at her. "Rufus is 'ere, an' Aveline pulled some stuff out she thought you'd want."

* * *

><p>By the time everyone had a chance to clean up, sit down, and eat, the ship was a good distance from Kirkwall, heading into open waters. Lise and Orsino had just finished telling Sebastian about everything that had happened, over dinner, when Varric spoke up.<p>

"So, what's our plan?"

Sebastian looked at the group. "You're all welcome in Starkhaven, you know, though you'll have to lay low. I've got a small estate – more of a hunting lodge, really – out in the forests north of the city, but it might be too secluded for you..."

Lise shook her head. "I'd welcome seclusion after this. But I can't put you in danger, Sebastian. No matter what Cullen tells the Divine, there are too many holes in his story."

Varric scoffed. "My dear Hawke, you underestimate _my_ powers." She blinked at him. "I've been working on this story since we stepped into the Chantry courtyard today. Why do you think I suggested you disguise Orsino? If we tell enough people that _he's _the one who went crazy in the tower, and that he's dead, the rumour will spread and they'll believe it. Give it enough time and no one will think to look for him."

Lise frowned. "There's no way I'm going to let you tell people that Orsino was a blood mage."

Orsino put a hand on hers, shaking his head. "I hate the idea, too, but Varric's got a point. It's scandalous enough that people will repeat it, and unfortunately, believe it. Trying to make me into a martyr would take too much time, but I'm willing to swallow my pride and become a villain if it gives us our freedom."

She shook her head again. "I hate it, but I can't think of anything else. If you're sure, then... I guess... thank you, Varric. You're a lifesaver, again."

* * *

><p>The meal passed and shortly after, Hawke excused herself, going up to be alone on the deck with her thoughts. After a while, Orsino joined her, leaning on the railing beside her as she watched the remnants of the fog drift away along the distant shore. It was cold, and there was a faint dusting of snow on the deck already and more in the air. He watched her quietly; a few minutes later, he slid an arm around her waist.<p>

"Remembering Anders?"

She shook her head, looking up at him. "Yes and no. I'm just thinking about everything – the whole mess. Anders is part of it, yes. I'll mourn him for the rest of my life, as I will mother and Carver... but I said my goodbyes when he left, months ago." She blinked, and in the moonlight he could see the tears in her eyes. "I know he wanted to go, and that his death was the kindest thing I could have given him, but... that so many people had to die..."

Orsino pulled her close, wrapping his cloak around her. "Hush, love. I know that nothing I can say will make you feel any less to blame, but you have to let him have his share."

She nodded, resting her head on his chest. "In the end, something was going to give. It was just a bad situation that caused _this_ to be the outcome, I _know _that. Too many things were wrong that could not be healed. I will bear my guilt, but I cannot let it crush me." She pulled back, looking up at him. "But... the worst part is how many lives this has ruined. I mean, you're an exile now, because of this."

He gave her an odd look. "Love... behind the ache and pain of tragedy, I'm happier than I've ever been. I'm _free_, Lise. I've never been free in my life, not since the day I entered the Starkhaven Circle when I was six." He pulled her back to him. "Just standing here, in the winter night, feeling the snow on my face – that's an experience I never thought I'd have. And that you're here, with me – no, don't feel any guilt on my part. This is more than I ever hoped and all I've ever wanted, though I wish the gaining had been in a different way."

She nodded, slowly. "Is it really as easy as that?"

"I wouldn't say it's easy, no. But I think, if you talked to those who followed you today, that not one of us would have done anything differently. We've fought our battles and made our sacrifices; now it's time for us to take our reward, such as it is."

He kissed her, gently, and she turned; together they watched the shoreline fade from view until all they could see was the moonlit trail reflected on the open ocean.

* * *

><p><em>The characters belong to Bioware, I just borrow them.<em>


	37. Epilogue

_And here is the epilogue, the happily-ever-after. It's _very _fluffy, so you can't say you weren't warned! I like being able to settle everything happily after that kind of angst and drama. Of course, I find myself charmed by Hawke's new life, and I think it might be fun to work some of the new DLC into it – like Legacy, and depending on how it goes, Mark of the Assassin. I also find myself thinking up more adventures for the gang to get into, even _after _they've fled Kirkwall. After all, Orana has no problem babysitting! Would anyone be interested in reading more of this AU if I wrote it? Let me know!_

_Also, I'm pondering what story to write next, as I have a few sitting around, just started. Not all of them are Dragon Age, and I admit I wouldn't mind taking a slight DA break for a bit: my options right now are F!Cousland/Nathaniel Howe(from Awakening era), Valen Shadowbreath (from Neverwinter Nights 1: Hordes of the Underdark), and Sand (from Neverwinter Nights 2). I want to write F!Hawke/Varric, F!Hawke/Sebastian, and F!Hawke/Anders (Awakening/AU), and possibly even a very angsty F!Hawke/Anders/Fenris triangle, but those will probably come later. Anyhow, if anyone has any thoughts or interests, just let me know what you'd be most interested in reading._

_For everyone who has read this, or will read this, _**thank ****you **_from the bottom of my heart. This was the first fan-fiction I ever finished and the first I've ever posted, and the responses have been overwhelming! You guys are why I was able to stick with it. I still welcome any feedback – I can't grow as a writer if I don't get critique. And keep an eye out. I can't keep from writing for long – I'll definitely be back!_

* * *

><p><em>Ch. 37 - epilogue, and happily-ever-after.<em>

"Mistress Lise! Mistress Lise? Are you here?"

Lise looked up from her herb garden, where she was harvesting the last of the basil and elfroot. It was mid-fall yet, but frost came quickly to Tairlaw forest, buried in the mountains around Starkhaven, and this was her last task before her garden was ready for winter. The Minanter river, not half a mile from Glenarrow Lodge, would be frozen soon - long before they would even have started looking for snow in Kirkwall. She gave a call of "over here" and waved her trowel; Wolf brightened and came running through the garden, careful not to step into any of the now-covered flowerbeds.

"They're here, Mistress Lise, and Orana sent me out to fetch you."

"Already? Maker, they weren't supposed to arrive until tomorrow, and here I am, all over dirt." She began to get up, slowly, but Wolf stooped to her side.

"Here, use my shoulder. Merrill already says you shouldn't be out here so much anymore."

At fourteen, Wolf was already as tall as Lise, or taller. She smiled at him, taking his arm. "Bah, I need to take care of my garden. I've still got a month – the baby will be better off with fresh air than she would if we were cooped up all day, and it certainly helps _my_ temper." She pulled her wrap tightly around her shoulders. "Have you seen Orsino?"

Wolf shook his head. "I think he and Fenris are still out."

Lise stood, carefully dusting off her hands and knees, and let Wolf lend her his arm until she got into the house. She could have made it on her own, but he was always so eager to help that it was hard to refuse him. They'd never adopted him, as was her original plan, but that was because, in his words, "'e was already close to bein' a man, an' then 'e'd be takin' care o' _them_." Orsino had started teaching him soon after they'd settled in, and now no one would ever associate the street urchin that he'd been with the earnest young man he'd become.

Before they stepped into the house – Glenarrow was a sprawling estate, and it fit three families quite easily – Lise looked back at her garden, smiling. In the four years since they'd come it had grown far larger than hers in Kirkwall had ever been. Of course, that was possibly because she was always getting a new cutting of some flower she'd never seen, or a "particularly fine breed of tomato" from someone or other in Glencairn, the closest village to the estate.

When they'd first gotten to Glenarrow, it was mostly Merrill and Orana that had gone into the village to barter and do business; people were taciturn and a little suspicious of the newcomers, but once Varric had dropped several sovereigns over several nights on local ale in the tavern, and spent several evenings telling stories, the atmosphere lightened considerably. Lise had a sneaking suspicion that he'd started a rumour that she was the sister of that 'Champion of Kirkwall' and she'd come to Starkhaven to 'get away from the memories,' but she didn't care. Then, once word got around that Merrill was an herbalist and the first few farmers who visited to get cures for fevers or broken bones instead left fully healed, the villagers accepted them completely, and now talked fondly of 'the folks up at the Lodge'.

Walking into the massive kitchen, Lise saw the two visitors sitting at the table – both dark-haired and in Grey Warden uniforms – and handed Wolf her basket of herbs so that she could rush into her sister's arms. "Bethy, you _made_ it! I was beginning to think I'd have to have the baby without you!" Bethany laughed, and Lise turned to the other guest. "And to think that the new Warden-Commander of Ansburg Keep has come to visit!" She dropped a laughing bow, though it was awkward, given her size. "Welcome to our 'humble abode', messeres."

Nathaniel smiled, giving her a kiss on the cheek. "Senior Warden Bethany just couldn't stay away from her sister any longer, I'm afraid. It's good to see you, Lise."

After Lise sat down, Orana bustled over to pour tea for the trio. In her wake came a small, blonde, elven girl, who carefully, but silently, held up a bowl. Orana tsked at her. "Leandra! You're supposed to say, 'sugar, messere?'"

Bethany laughed, taking a spoonful. "She's adorable, Orana. You say she's showing signs of mage talent?"

Orana nodded. "That she is, messere. It worries us a bit, I'll admit, and Fenris was a bit put out, but since Orsino is here to teach her he hasn't been as upset as I expected him to be."

Nathaniel, who'd picked Leandra up, sugar and all, and was now bouncing her on his knee, looked at Lise. "Speaking of, where _is_ your husband?"

She smiled, but before she could answer, there was a crash and a wail from the other end of the kitchen. A small boy with red hair and faintly pointed ears, perhaps a year younger than Leandra, sat on the rug, crying, with the remnants of a ceramic plate and what appeared to have been a loaf of gingerbread scattered around him. Just disappearing out the far door was his doppelganger – but the small fugitive's getaway was cut short by Merrill, who came walking through the same door just at that moment. He ran into her legs, and she picked him up. "Malcolm Carver Hawke, what did you do to your brother?" He shook his head, burying his face in her shoulder, but not before his wide green eyes sparkled at the group mischievously. She walked over to join the others, handing Malcolm to Bethany, who'd held out her arms for her nephew. "Hullo, Bethany, Nathaniel. How was the trip? No problems with bandits, I hope."

Orana, meanwhile, had fetched Malcolm's twin and handed him to Lise, who dried his eyes and kissed his forehead. She was just turning to Merrill when the back door opened again and Orsino and Fenris walked in. Orsino dropped a kiss on Lise's cheek and the boy in her lap raised his arms. "Papa. Up!"

Everyone laughed, and Orsino picked up his son. "Have you been behaving yourself, Anders?" The little boy nodded earnestly, and the mage turned to the newcomers. "So, have you two settled in at Ansburg?"

Nathaniel nodded. "Things are quiet now, and we've been focused on recruiting. There's not as much to be done in the winter, so we got leave to take a month's 'vacation' with the idea that I'll be spending most of my time discussing an alliance with Prince Vael."

Lise nodded, as Orsino sat down beside her. "That's not so bad, then. Sebastian and Flora come out here often, anyhow, so perhaps we can get them to visit for Midwinter and you can have your 'talks' here. Starkhaven is nice, but Glenarrow is nicer, especially in the winter. How has everything else been?"

"Really, there's nothing new with us that you don't already know about. Have you heard any news from the others?" Bethany accepted a new plate of gingerbread from Orana and placed it on the table, and Malcolm immediately reached for it.

His mother reached forward to pull the plate away, but gave him a small piece, which lightened his mood considerably. "Well, you hear from Varric as often as I do, and by extension, Isabela. Whatever possessed him to ship out with her – especially since he gets _so_ seasick – I'll never know, but he says he's got a new supply of stories and is ready to settle back down in Kirkwall and 'amuse the natives'. From what I hear, the Hanged Man is still there, and is as ale-soaked as ever."

"I wonder if Corff ever got his book about 'speed griffons' written."

Lise chuckled. "Maker only knows – I'd think he probably has too much to do, cleaning up after that lot. Aveline writes to me when she gets time, which isn't often, but she tends to stick to information about politics or 'criminal news' – it's like pulling teeth to get her to give me any gossip, and she never talks about herself and Donnic, though I gather they're happy. They and Varric might actually come for a visit when the snows let up – now that Brett Harimann has been Viscount for a few years, things have finally finished settling down. She says that he matured a lot after his mother died, and that the support he gives the guards is 'adequate', which, in Aveline-speak, means she's quite happy with it." They all laughed. "And apparently she gets along well with Knight-Commander Cullen, so things run a lot more smoothly than they did before."

After putting Malcolm down so that he and Leandra could run off and play, Bethany leaned forward. "How is the new First Enchanter working out?"

"First Enchanter Finn? From what Aveline says, he seems to be doing well. Ferelden sent him over, if you recall, shortly after the catastrophe with Meredith. I was worried, since Orsino had heard rumours that he'd once been a bit of a prankster, and knowing what the Kirkwall Circle is like, well…" She shrugged. "But it seems my fears were unfounded. The number of escapes dropped rapidly once he took over, and he's been working with Cullen to keep the atmosphere open and accessible."

Orsino smiled. "I almost suggested once that Feynriel would make a good First Enchanter, but after Tevinter I don't think there's any way he could go back to living in the Circle."

Merrill looked up. "Feynriel? I got a letter from him yesterday, Lise. He says he's almost done studying under Master Trenthian, and he's tired of Tevinter, and wants to get away. Do you think… there would be room here, for another mage?" She smiled, blushing slightly.

Orsino brightened up. "I think that would be a wonderful idea. I'm curious to hear his thoughts on the new theories of magical amplification progression and-" he paused, when Lise blinked at him, and chuckled. "Sorry, love. You know how I am with research." He looked around. "I'd be all for him coming to stay, but I defer to the rest of the group."

Fenris scowled, but it was more habit than actual feeling, and shrugged. "What's one more mage? In for a copper, in for a cask, I suppose." They all laughed.

"Oh! Speaking of magical theory and new letters, I got a note from Bodahn the other day." Lise brought out a folded sheet. Clearing her throat, she began to read.

"_Dear Mistress Hawke,_

_I hope these tidings find you and your companions well. It's still difficult to find my way around Val Royeux – you humans do look so much alike! There aren't many dwarves here, but we do our best. Empress Celene was so impressed with Sandal's skills when we came to court last year that she's put us in with the mages at the Circle. They've been working with him, trying to gain a greater understanding of how his enchantment works. I always knew my boy was special! He sends his best, as well, and wanted me to 'tell the doggy hello'._

_Yours faithfully,_

_Bodahn Feddic"_

"Did you hear that, boy? Sandal says hello!" Rufus, who'd been dozing on the hearth, stuck his head up and barked, then jumped to his feet – albeit more slowly than he once would have – and spun around a few times. Lise smiled. "That's more excited than he's been all month, I think. Dear Rufus. He goes along sometimes when Sebastian and Fenris go hunting, but he's usually content to stay home these days and play with the children."

Just then, Orana – who'd been carrying platters and tureens from the kitchen while everyone else was talking – popped her head in from the next room over to tell them that dinner was ready. Orsino handed little Anders to Bethany, then gave Lise his arm, and everyone convened to the dining room. Merrill fetched the two little ones who'd run off; when she came back, she announced that it had just started to snow.

Lise smiled. "Our guests are here and my garden is covered – I say let it come!"


End file.
